To Control
by melisandre013
Summary: It's 1925 during the Prohibition Era and the old school mobsters. Sanji owns a speakeasy for Don Krieg's bootleg liquor. Sanji resents this, and the opportunity to change it all comes when Roronoa Zoro shows up with an offer. Warning: Yaoi
1. Part I

Zoro

**Zoro**

Zoro stared at the small, square building. It wasn't particularly interesting, and it caused Zoro to wonder if this was the right place. He hoped he hadn't gotten lost again. It wasn't likely; Nami had given him _explicit _directions here. It just didn't look like the right place. Even if the sign read Le Baratie, Zoro didn't believe this was the restaurant Luffy had asked him to go to. Nami had said it was worth her money. Zoro found that hard to believe because nothing was worth her money. But he had agreed to this plan, and who was he to dispute Nami's reasoning.

He was glad that this restaurant didn't have one of those awful blinking signs. The fluorescent technology was new, and everybody seemed to want one. The majority of the Enies' restaurants were already boasting proud, hot pink or green lights. These lights shouted out to passerby. Zoro supposed that the owner of Le Baratie either had enough confidence in his restaurant or that they couldn't afford it. Whatever the reason, Zoro was glad. He didn't like how they buzzed and popped.

Rather, Le Baratie's sign was simple: large capital letters and an image of a ship. Zoro didn't know where the ship came in. _Probably means something in French, _he thought. It wasn't just the sign that was simple. The whole building seemed plain. How could such a bland restaurant attract enough customers? But, its homeliness made it the perfect cover.

He had resigned himself to this task earlier, but it was still difficult to enter the Le Baratie and follow through. It wasn't in his nature to take things slowly. He would have preferred to barge in there and order the owner to turn its business over. That wasn't practical, and he knew it. Not much effort was needed for Nami and Robin to convince him. It had taken a lot more time and effort to convince Luffy. He was of the same mindset as Zoro. It was going to take a lot of self-control and patience on Zoro's part to keep his actions under control. Zoro wasn't very good at being patient.

The door opened, and a couple linked arm in arm stepped out. The light coming through the door framed them, and Zoro could only see silhouettes. Then the door was closed, and the man and woman walked down the street. They looked normal enough, and there was no need for Zoro to worry. He hoped there was no need to worry, because you never knew who had affiliations with whom in this town.

The couple's exit had cued Zoro. It was time to enter the restaurant. He pushed the door open and stepped into the noisy room. The small dining area was full. The majority of the diners were couples and families, but Zoro could see one large table in the back. It was filled with men in suits, one of which was tall and broad shouldered. Zoro recognized him in an instant. Don Krieg. For a moment, he was worried that Don Krieg would recognize him too, but then he remembered that he was too unknown for the man to notice him.

A young woman in a long dress came up to him. She smiled. "Good evening, sir. Welcome to Le Baratie. How large is your party?"

Zoro slid his fedora off his head and hung it on the coat rack near the door. "It's just me tonight."

She blinked as though it was very unusual for a man to come in and eat alone. It made Zoro wonder if he would have been better off bringing Robin. The woman smiled again and gestured to a small table to one side of the room. It was opposite Don Krieg's side. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to change his plan to deal with the rival mobster.

Zoro made a show of looking through the menu. He already knew what he was going to order, but it was necessary to remain inconspicuous. Nami had planned this out carefully. Two days ago she and Robin had eaten here and ordered the halibut in a smooth olive oil and rosemary sauce. While eating, they had sorted out the ingredients and how they affected the dish. They had told Zoro all of those details so that he could repeat them when he 'gave his compliments to the chef'. It was necessary to get the chef out of the kitchen to give him their proposition.

He ordered the halibut, patiently waiting until he could actually do something. It was the waiting that was killing him. He didn't understand how people did it. Patience just wasn't in his nature. But he sighed, accepting the fact that he needed to sit quietly and wait for his meal.

It came eventually, after what seemed like days to Zoro, but in truth- he had been watching a clock on the wall- had only been half an hour. In that time period, the room had begun to thin. The majority of the customers had left. It was already 7:15 when he had arrived, and- as Nami had told him- dinner services ended at 8. His late arrival, of course, was a significant detail to their plan. By the time Zoro was finished eating, there would have been few reasons for the cook to stay in the kitchen rather than meet this 'connoisseur', which of course Zoro was not. They had to trick this chef before he would agree to talk.

Zoro ate quietly, making it appear as though he were truly enjoying the food. It was delicious, so enjoying it wasn't an issue. He had to act as if he really were this all-knowing judge of food. Which was a little more difficult than he really wanted it to be. For one, he wasn't that good of an actor, but he also didn't really like fish. When he finished eating, he looked around for the waitress and then signaled her over. It was 7:57, just the right amount of time left.

"Did you enjoy your meal, sir?"

Zoro made a show of dabbing at his lips with the napkin. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Yes, very enjoyable. I especially like how the olive oil seals in the natural flavour of the halibut. And it has just the right amount of rosemary to make this dish perfect. Give my compliments to the chef."

She grinned, and as she reached to take his now empty plate, Zoro saw the wedding ring on her finger. _Nice rock,_ he thought and wondered if her husband was the chef. _This place makes more money than I originally thought if she got that._ The young woman walked to the kitchen, her hips swaying just so; Zoro was hard-pressed not to watch her as she walked away, because- damn- her husband was lucky to have that every night. She came back moments later, winked at Zoro and said:

"He's coming out. He said he wants to thank you in person for admiring the food." She moved away to clear off other tables and check on the other diners. Zoro waited, as he had been the entire night, but soon he could act. He fixed his eyes on the kitchen door, willing it to open.

It did, and the cook stepped out. Tall and long-legged, this cook was not what Zoro had expected. The cook was wearing black pants, a blue shirt, and a black vest over it. In his mind's eye, he had pictured a short, large-bellied man in a dirty apron with a deep, rough voice. Instead when the cook sat down and introduced himself, Zoro heard a smooth voice with a bit of a musical lilt to it.

"The name's Sanji," the cook said. He had his hand out, and Zoro shook it while taking a closer look at the man. He had blonde hair that was pulled behind his head in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. A few wisps of hair covered one of his bright blue eyes, which were topped with large curly eyebrows. Zoro tried not to laugh. _Who has dartboard eyebrows?_

"Roronoa Zoro. Nice to meet you." There was a moment of silence as the two men stared at each other. Then Sanji reached below the table. For a second, Zoro tensed up, worried that Sanji was about to pull out a gun. Then he would be dead, and this whole plan would fail. But instead, Sanji brought out a metal tobacco tin and a lighter. He opened the tin and pulled out one of the small strips of paper, sprinkled some of the tobacco on it, and rolled it up. He lit it, then spoke.

"You liked the halibut." Zoro nodded. "Good. I like making it. It's even better when somebody can appreciate the work I put into it."

"Well, it was great. Very moist. It seems like it's a simple recipe." Zoro was struggling to remember Nami's directions. He couldn't remember exactly what to say. Whatever, he would go in whatever direction he could take and hope he didn't get lost. "Did you marinate it before you cooked it? Or was the halibut naturally that flavorful?"

Sanji laughed, took a drag on his cigarette. His blue eyes met Zoro's. "I'm impressed. You know your food. Is this how you spend your time, Mr. Roronoa?"

"Please, just Zoro. And what exactly do you mean?"

Sanji took a drag. "I mean, do you visit restaurants just to analyze their dishes as a hobby?"

"No." Zoro shook his head. "My sister recommended this place, and we had plans to meet here, but something came up. She insisted that I come anyways." Sanji's attention had left Zoro. Zoro knew that he needed it back for this plan to work. "I'm glad I did, because now I can recommend this fine dish." Sanji was looking behind Zoro, and Zoro turned to find out what had captured his interest.

Don Krieg's party had stood up and was gathering their things together. Don Krieg himself had his arm around the shoulders of one of his underlings, a tall, skinny man with dark hair and shadowed eyes. The man smiled at something Don Krieg said and slapped him on the back. Don Krieg roared with laughter. Zoro looked back at Sanji. The blonde chef had taught lips and eyes fixed on the gangster's party. Zoro wondered what exactly he was upset about. Zoro's obvious guess was the gangster's presence in the restaurant to begin with, but he also wondered if there was more than that.

Zoro could hear feet shuffling and knew that the party was leaving. He kept his eyes forward, looking at Sanji. He didn't want Don Krieg to see him. Although he probably had no idea who Zoro was, Zoro wasn't going to take any chances that might cause Luffy trouble later. It would be a hassle to deal with any interferences. He hoped they didn't pay him any heed.

Don Krieg and his men passed by Zoro and Sanji's table. They went by without stopping or talking to Sanji. Zoro understood their connection, and he understood why they did not speak. But as each member of the crew passed by Sanji, they gave him a quick glance. Zoro knew that no one was supposed to notice these things, so he made no indication that he saw these glances. Sanji, too, gave no sign that Don Krieg had looked at him. The cook sat silently, his eyes on Zoro. It seemed as though he was trying so hard to make it look like Zoro and Sanji were having a conversation even as Don Krieg walked near them, even though Don Krieg would know that the two men were not actually saying anything at this moment.

Sanji kept this face up as five of the six men passed them by, but as the sixth came near, Zoro could see it wavering. Zoro watched as this man, the one with whom Don Krieg had spoken earlier, stopped next to Sanji and placed his hand on the cook's shoulder. Sanji's eyes grew wide as the man leaned down to whisper something to him. Sanji stiffened. The man straightened and glanced at Zoro. It was a fleeting look only, but Zoro could read it and knew that the man didn't appreciate Zoro's presence. But then he was moving away, and it was time for Zoro to act.

"Is everything all right?" he asked. Sanji started as though he had just remembered that Zoro was standing there.

"What? Oh yeah. I'm fine. I just don't like having them- you know who they are, right?" Zoro nodded. "Well, I just don't like having them as…customers."

"I see."

Sanji cleared his throat. "Yes. But I hate to overshadow the halibut with my complaints. You were saying?"

Zoro laughed. "Ah, yes. I was commenting on your impressive restaurant. It has a hospitable and warm feel to it. I was surprised to learn that something like this can survive in this day and age."

"It takes a lot to keep this place alive and unpolluted with Enies' crime scene," Sanji smiled. He had this complacent look in his eyes as he breathed in through the cigarette. "It's worth it, though."

"That must be why you let Don Krieg eat and bring his bootleg liquor here," Zoro said, his voice even and low. Sanji sputtered and almost inhaled his cigarette. His eyes were wide as they flicked across the room for a sign that anyone had heard Zoro's words. No one had.

"Are you a cop?" Sanji whispered, leaning over the table. Zoro shook his head. "Then, what the fuck is your problem?"

"I don't have one."

"Oh yes you do. If you can sit there and say it that easily then you do have a problem." Sanji's face was growing red. "You know who he is, right? Then you should know you can't say that shit in public. You shouldn't even say it in private."

"I'm not scared of him," Zoro said.

"You should be," Sanji snapped. "I am."

Sanji looked as if he might say more, so Zoro waited. He listened to the restaurant, which in the time that Zoro and Sanji had been talking had grown quieter. All but for a few customers, the room was empty, and those customers were so absorbed into their own moments, that they were paying no attention to Sanji and Zoro. Under these circumstances, Zoro couldn't understand Sanji's fear that somebody would overhear their conversation.

"Since you know that he brings the stuff here, you must know about downstairs," Sanji said. His face was considerably less red, but a slight flush was still present. "Figures. _That _information isn't too hard to obtain if you know how to get it. But how the hell could you know that it's he who brings the liquor. He covers his trail well."

"Have you heard of Red-haired Shanks from Shabondy?" Sanji nodded. "Well, he and my boss are good friends. Shanks wants to help him get started here in Enies and gave us some information about what is whose territory."

"And how is that knowledge going to help you?" Sanji extinguished his cigarette and lit another. "You going to be bounty hunters?"

"No, I already tried that, and it doesn't work out too well. Luffy convinced me to help him become the top mob boss here in Enies."

"And why are you telling me this? You know my loyalties currently lie elsewhere."

Zoro nodded. "That can be changed."

"No, it can't," Sanji nearly shouted. At this point the customers did look up. The young waitress' head shot up from where she was across the room. Zoro saw concern on her features. Sanji saw her too. He spoke more quietly. "I can't change any of this. There's too much involved."

"The Strawhats are ready to help."

"Strawhats? You have a name for yourselves?"

"Yes, and we want to invest in this establishment- both the restaurant and its components." Zoro stared at Sanji. He watched the other man's face for any sort of insight into his thoughts. "We'd also like to invest in you."

"I can't." Sanji whispered. His fists were clenching and unclenching on top of the table. His teeth were grinding. Suddenly Sanji closed his eyes, and after a couple seconds of deep breathing, he opened them. "Mr. Roronoa, I appreciate the offer and the interest you have shown, but I have to decline."

"You'd be free," Zoro said quietly. Sanji winced. Zoro could tell that comment had gotten to him.

"I don't know about that, but I still-"

"Luffy is different than Don Krieg."

"I still can't." Zoro opened his mouth, about to insist once more. Sanji stopped him. "Look, there are things you don't know. I can't just get out of this. It isn't something I can do by myself or with anyone's help. I'm stuck with this shit."

"You'd be surprised what Luffy can do."

"I'm sure," Sanji said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He sighed. "It's been nice talking with you. Perhaps you'll come back with your sister to try the halibut again. You are always welcome to eat here, but don't expect anything else from Le Baratie."

Zoro stood and Sanji stood with him. The men shook hands, and into Sanji's hand Zoro slipped a business card. "I understand. But don't think we're giving up. Somebody should be by in a couple days to let you know we're still interested. If you change your mind before then-"

"I won't."

"As you say." Zoro turned away. He walked to the coat rack, shrugged on his coat, and flipped the fedora over his head. As he was leaving, he looked back to the chef. Sanji was leaning against the table, a cigarette pressed between his lips. He waved at Zoro, who waved back and pushed the door open. Out in the open air, Zoro smiled. Although it seemed like he had failed, he knew that Sanji was intrigued. Sanji didn't like Don Krieg's patronage, and the Strawhats were the perfect people to rid him of it. They would have Le Baratie and its speakeasy. The idea of a speakeasy excited Zoro. It had been ages since he'd had a good drink. If he could drink and be in Luffy's service at the same time, well, Zoro would be living the good life. He smiled again, because that life seemed to be a definite future.

The only problem now was getting Don Krieg to turn over his business. Zoro had a feeling it wouldn't be too difficult. He just had to wait for Sanji to be ready. _Great, more waiting_.


	2. Part II

Zoro

**Sanji**

It was already past midnight when the last customer left. That wasn't unusual, though, considering that most of Sanji's clientele weren't the type to hurry home. He strove to make the restaurant hospitable and free of this era's tendency toward crime, but the speakeasy below the restaurant was a symbol of that tendency. As the bartender, Sanji was able to see the corruption that Prohibition had brought. Anyone that had drunk before 1918 was able to meet below and order the bootleg alcohol Don Krieg brought. And Sanji had to serve them. Serve them as if he enjoyed their patronage.

He didn't, of course. But he had to if he wanted to keep Le Baratie open. True, the speakeasy was able to bring in more customers; people would eat dinner and then travel below for a beer or whiskey. The money Sanji earned through Le Baratie and the speakeasy was enough to keep the restaurant alive and taken care of for years to come. Don Krieg also provided security, ensuring he and Caimie a safe life. That was an added benefit, but Sanji sometimes wondered if it was worth it. Was it worth enduring Don Krieg's gang members during the hours the speakeasy was open? Was it worth the threat that if Sanji so much as placed a hair out of Don Krieg's covenant he would be ruined or killed?

Was it worth the price that Gin claimed almost every night?

Sanji sighed, checking to make sure the speakeasy was tidy and ready for tomorrow before turning of the lights and heading up the stairs. The stairs led up into a hallway off the side of the kitchen. In this hallway was a door leading to a restroom on one side. Sanji stepped through the doorframe into this hallway. He closed the door to the basement and walked straight to the door into the kitchen. He stepped through and locked the way to the basement.

The kitchen was empty as Sanji expected it to be. Caimie had turned the lights off, and Sanji had to walk through it in the dim light coming through the window from the common room. That was easy, though; he could find his way through this kitchen- his haven- blindfolded. He stepped out of the kitchen, its door swinging softly behind him. The dining room was empty with chairs stacked on top of all the tables except for one, at which two people sat. One had short, bobbed blonde hair and rosy cheeks. She was all polite smiles for the man she sat with. _Caimie_, Sanji thought bitterly, _my wife_. It was a marriage of convenience, of course, for Sanji had no romantic interest with women. He had discovered that long ago, but in this age a man could never admit to that. Caimie had similar feelings toward men. Their marriage was a disguise that had come about as an idea between two friends.

It was the man she spoke to that captured Sanji's attention. Gin, second in command to Don Krieg, a strong and formidable man even without the backing of Don Krieg's power. He too found men more interesting. It was merely coincidence that he was with Sanji, because normally Sanji would not have looked twice at the gaunt, haunting Gin. But it seemed that he was the only one that Sanji could have, could find. Gin wasn't bad looking at all- he just wasn't Sanji's type. Sanji took what he could get, though. And it wasn't like he had any choice in the matter. What Gin wanted, Gin got. Something about his boss owning Sanji's livelihood prevented Sanji from getting rid of the other man. It wasn't all bad. Sanji enjoyed it most of the time.

Sanji walked over to Caimie and Gin's table, forcing a warm smile on his face. Gin met Sanji's gaze, and a grin crossed his lips, betraying his dirty thoughts. Caimie looked up uneasily. Sanji knew she worried about him.

"You returned," Sanji said.

"I said I would." Gin was still grinning.

"I'm just surprised. You haven't been by in several days; I was worried you weren't coming back. I missed you," Sanji lied. Half-lied. By now he was by the table. Gin stood up so that he was close enough to Sanji that he could feel Gin's breath across his face but far enough away that neither was touching the other. Sanji's blue eyes met Gin's black ones. Caimie cleared her throat.

"Sanji, love," she said, standing, "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning." Sanji leaned over to gently kiss her cheek. She smiled and turned to leave. "Don't forget to lock the door."

"I won't."

"That's good. Goodnight." Sanji nodded. As soon as Caimie had turned the corner and was out of sight, Gin laid his hand on Sanji's cheek and turned the cook's face so that he could kiss him. It was soft, light and completely unlike most of Gin's kisses, which were rough and deep. The next kiss was like that, Gin's tongue entering Sanji's mouth and Gin's hands tangling in Sanji's hair. Sanji sighed into the other man's mouth. He knew where this would lead soon enough, and before Sanji got to the point where he stopped thinking, he needed to lock the door.

He broke away, slowly and gently to avoid angering the other man. "I have to lock the door," he whispered. Gin nodded. Sanji went to lock the door, his hands shaking only slightly. Then he turned back to Gin who took Sanji's hand and began to lead him upstairs. They passed Caimie's room and then they were in Sanji's room.

Gin pushed Sanji onto the bed in such a hurry that Sanji's head flopped onto the bed harshly. His head had to clear before he could comprehend what Gin was doing. When it did, Sanji knew that Gin was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his way down Sanji's chest as he did so. A little moan escaped Sanji's lips as Gin traced his navel with his tongue. As soon as Sanji's shirt was completely unbuttoned, he shrugged out of it. He looked up, his eyes meeting Gin's hungry ones. Gin lifted his shirt up and over his head. Both men undid their pants.

The moments that followed were full of tongues, lips, hands, fondling, and moaning. Gin's hands were on Sanji's chest one moment, his lips on his ear. The next they would be down on Sanji, pulling and coaxing him. Sanji reached out to grasp Gin's face so that he could bite the other man's ear. Sanji groaned. Gin had broken away from Sanji and his mouth was now closing over Sanji's penis.

Sanji was on the brink when Gin stopped, motioning for Sanji to turn over. Sanji, now on his hands and knees on the bed, braced himself. Gin wasn't one to use a lubricant. It was hard to relax, but he knew from experience that if he tensed his muscles, it would only hurt worse. Usually, Sanji's mind was blank by this time, focused only on the pounding pleasure and pain. But tonight, a face appeared in his mind. Not Gin, but the green-haired man that he had met earlier that night. Roronoa Zoro. Roronoa Zoro. The words repeated in Sanji's mind rhythmically, in time with Gin's thrusts. For a moment, it occurred to Sanji that thinking of Zoro was completely illogical, but that moment quickly passed, because Sanji stopped thinking.

Afterwards, as he was flushed from the after-sex temperature his mind drifted back to his conversation with Zoro. The man had offered freedom in exchange for Sanji helping their business. Sanji looked over at Gin, who was now asleep. He'd be free of Gin and Don Krieg's oppression, but what would Zoro and Luffy demand of him? Currently Sanji dealt with the intimidation and the constant fear- of the police, that Don Krieg might get tired of Sanji and off him and Caimie. He was most afraid that Don Krieg would take away his restaurant. He could do it, too. He had lent Sanji the money to buy it in exchange that his name was on the deed. Le Baratie was his everything.

Still, he hadn't given up hope that someday he would be free of Don Krieg. He'd always assumed it would be when this stupid Prohibition law ended, but who knew when the hell that was going to happen? Sanji wanted to own a large restaurant and be its chef. He wanted the newspapers to write about him and his newest creation. But with Don Krieg looming behind him, Sanji would never have that opportunity. Could things be different with Luffy?

Even if they could be, it wouldn't be possible to change them. There was no way that Luffy could get Don Krieg to turn over Le Baratie. Who was this Luffy? Zoro looked like he wasn't much older than Sanji, whereas Don Krieg was already in his thirties with a hell of a lot more experience. Don Krieg owned over 50 speakeasies and had a huge number of followers. What did Luffy have? Zoro? A green-haired gangster? _Very inconspicuous._ But something inside him was telling him to trust Zoro. Trust Zoro and Luffy, two people he didn't know.

Trust them to get rid of Don Krieg and Gin.

Sanji sighed. He was too tired to think about it anymore. Rather he curled next to Gin, if only to be close to someone. He would have preferred that it wasn't Gin he was next to. Zoro, maybe. He was more Sanji's type. _Trust Zoro_, he thought as he drifted to sleep. _Trust a man who is ballsy enough to offer to save me from _the _Don Krieg._


	3. Part III

**Sanji**

Le Baratie was open, but Sanji wasn't expecting any customers for a while. Lunchtime was usually a casual affair with only a few people coming in to eat. Sanji would have loved to see more customers. He loved to be in the kitchen. When he had his pots and pans and the smell of herbs surrounding him, Sanji was able to forget about Gin and Don Krieg and stupid Prohibition. At night there was enough time to cook and shut that out, but his days were mostly occupied with running the speakeasy.

This town was full of men and women craving the forbidden drink, and they came in at all hours of the day. Some were in at noon, some at three, and many came in just before they headed home to their families. It wasn't surprising that men like Don Krieg were exploiting this city's need for alcohol just as a ploy to gain power. Sanji hated it, knowing that with each speakeasy built, each warehouse and bootleg headquarters, a new wave of bloodshed would be born. It didn't matter that the top powers in Enies had already been established- Don Krieg, Moria, and Buggy. Small gangs kept appearing to take a chance at gaining their power. Every group was always crushed mercilessly or forced to pledge themselves to one of the Three. Sanji was tired of reading about the latest massacre in the newspaper.

It was about time that people stopped dreaming. There was no way that someone could control this city. Nobody could take the Three down. Sanji was convinced that they would end up killing each other anyway in this useless struggle.

He hated that he had been caught in it. Lack of money had forced him to turn to Don Krieg so that he didn't lose this one chance to meet his dream. And now that he had sold his soul, Sanji had thought it wasn't possible to fulfill it. Still did, except he couldn't help thinking about what that man had said- promised, even.

Roronoa Zoro and the new Strawhats. It wasn't like him to linger on the impossible. They, too, would be crushed completely.

It was several days after that unexpected meeting, and Sanji was still thinking about it. As he walked through Le Baratie, gently lifting the wooden chairs off the tables and setting them on the ground, these thoughts ran through his head again. Everyday he remembered that Zoro had said someone would be by. No one had come, yet.

The common room was ready for the few customers that might appear. He turned to head into the kitchen where he would get a rag to wipe down a few tables. They were already clean enough, he knew, but Sanji insisted on perfection. Also, he needed to do something besides wait. He was just wetting a cloth when he heard the soft steps coming from the other room. Expecting that it was Caimie arriving home from the market, he didn't feel any need to hurry.

Except, when Sanji left the kitchen he saw a woman he did not recognize. She stood in the middle of the room, her back to the kitchen door. From this angle he could only see the back of a deep scarlet hat above a pale neck. She wore an overcoat with the same red and fringed sleeves and collar. A long, pinstriped skirt hung loosely on her frame, supported by an empire-waistband belt.

She must have heard Sanji enter, because she turned around. Beneath her dainty cap was dark orange hair, a shade that reminded Sanji of tangerines. Even with the loose clothing that was popular, Sanji could tell that she was all curves.

He pulled a flirtatious smile to his lips. "Bonjour, ma cherie. I do not believe this humble restaurant- this humble chef- has been graced by beauty such as yours."

She blushed, but did not react to his words in any other manner. Sanji walked forward, took her delicate hand, and gently pressed his lips to it. This woman really was beautiful, and if Sanji were not homosexual, he would have pursued her. "Salut. I take it you must be the owner, Sanji Nero"

"I am. And you, if I am not mistaken, must be the Holy Mother herself," said Sanji, these compliments and facades flowing easily from his lips, "for no one else could have this ethereal beauty."

"No," she smiled politely. Sanji was surprised that he had elicited no more reaction than that. Usually women were stammering madly, refusing and denying his flirtations profusely but enjoying them nonetheless. Either that or they took him seriously and were convinced he truly was in love with them. This woman was able to brush them off easily, though. "As flattered as I am, sir, I am not. You may call me Nami."

It didn't surprise him that she had given no last name. "The pleasure is all mine. May I lead you, my dear, to a table. I promise you that anything I cook shall be made with you in mind."

"Thank you." Sanji pulled out a chair for her. "But actually, I am not hungry."

"That is fine. My food would tempt even the fullest man to try a bite. It is always delicious," Sanji promised.

"No, thank you." Sanji couldn't understand why she was here if she had no interest to dine. "I came, because I wanted to meet you, sir."

"Oh my dear, now you flatter me," Sanji said. If she were speaking truthfully, he could only hope it was for his cooking skills that she wanted to meet.

"Well, of course." She had amber eyes that were sparkling in the midday light that shone in through the windows. "I wanted to meet the chef that my friend spoke so highly of after dining here. Your meal was certainly one of the best my friend had had in a long time. Or so they told me."

"I am honored," said Sanji. He was trying his best to remain composed, but inside a voice was mentally dancing for joy. It wasn't often that people came to him merely to praise. "Especially if this friend of yours was as handsome as you, cherie."

She laughed, a wicked gleam now in those eyes. "Oh, my friend definitely is handsome. Although, I do not think he wants to hear those words from a man. He would much prefer to hear them from your lovely wife. At least that's what he told me."

Even though he tried not to, he flushed a little. Then he grew a little angry, not because he was jealous of someone being interested in Caimie, but he didn't want strangers ogling her. "I'm not quite sure what to say to that."

"Zoro, too, would be speechless if he knew I let his commentary slip." Sanji tried to swallow, but nearly choked instead. That wicked glint was still present. If she knew Zoro, then that meant-

"You're with Luffy," Sanji said. She nodded. "Which means you're here to-"

"Let you know we are still interested?" she said. "We are."

A silence fell between the two strangers. He pulled out a chair for himself and sat down. Sanji wasn't sure how to respond to that other than stating the obvious- that there was no way on earth he could agree to their proposition. This woman was too nice for such rude behaviour. He sighed and reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat to bring out his tobacco case. He rolled a square and carefully brought it to his lips and lit it. Sanji gestured at the case, offering to roll one for her also.

"No thank you." The woman was looking at him. Her eyes were keen as though she was inspecting him. She stretched out a hand, gently placing it atop his wrist. Sanji wondered just how effective she thought her little flirtation might be. "My mother always taught me that a lady does not smoke. But my mother was a hypocrite, because I never saw her too far from her own tobacco case."

Sanji smiled at her attempt at small talk. "I'm sure she would be relieved to see that you have not followed her bad habit."

"I think she would have preferred that to my current line of work." Inwardly, Sanji winced, because they were now back to her actual reason for being here.

"And yet you are still in it. Would she not be disappointed to see that you have become involved in gang activities?"

"Most likely," she said, "but I do believe she would approve of Luffy and our crew."

"I'm sure." Sanji was trying to be polite, but he couldn't see any reason why a mother would approve of any gang.

"We're different," she said as though she had read his mind and wanted to impress upon him why her mother would approve. "Luffy is a different kind of leader. He's no Don Krieg."

"I'm sure," Sanji said cynically. He didn't doubt that this Luffy was no Don Krieg, because Don Krieg was evil. Sanji had seen the before and after of Krieg's victims, many of which had once been part of his crew. Don Krieg took out any of his own at even the slightest bit of betrayal. No one matched him in cruelty.

"You should trust us when we say we can help you."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. The speakeasy belongs to Don Krieg."

Nami smiled. "That can be changed."

"Can it?" Sanji asked. "There's no way he would turn it over to you. He's making too much money from all the customers Baratie draws in. And I don't think he could give up his rights to a free meal willingly. So what can you do? Force him into turning it over? I doubt it."

"We could. And we will," she said. She slid her hand further up his arm. Sanji gently pulled away. "With your permission, of course."

"If I say yes and you fail, what happens to me?" Sanji didn't want to think about that. Not only would he be hurt- killed even- but Caimie also would be in danger. There was no way he would risk her safety.

"I understand that you're worried, but there is no way we will fail. Luffy has never failed before. Zoro either. You can trust them, us." Sanji shook his head. He wasn't going to place his trust in a lost cause. He wasn't an idiot. "I can see you're reluctant, but most of your fears will be assuaged once you meet him."

"Meet him?" Sanji said. Apparently he hadn't been clear on his decision. "I can't accept your offer."

"So you've said, but I think Luffy will stop in some time soon. I'll come back and schedule an appointment." She stood, and Sanji automatically followed suit out of habit. He had to remember propriety. Sanji placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the door. "I hope that we can see you again this week."

They were at the door now. Sanji was glad to be rid of this woman for now. He wasn't sure how he could escape a meeting with this rookie gangster. "Do I have a choice?"

Nami turned around and locker her brown eyes on Sanji's blue ones. She stood on tiptoe and gently pressed her lips to Sanji's cheek. A polite farewell. She headed out the door, turned back to look at him, smiling. "My dear, if you chose to be with us, you will always have a choice in everything you do. You won't have to bow down ever again. I promise."


	4. Part IV

_Author's Notes: I have a lot of these (sorry about that), so pay attention. I'm putting them up here so you'll already know everything before you have to read it. And then you don't have to scroll to the bottom or whatevers._

_1) Granite is one of the most expensive stones and tiles. Blue pearl stone is one of the most expensive subtypes of that, and you can't find it in North America. It's pretty and it looks like this._

_2) Ice boxes/refrigerators were first invented in the early 20th century._

_3) One hundred dollars in 1925 is equivalent to 1,203 today._

_4) Super (to mean great or awesome) first came into popular use in the 1920s. Ponytail's origin dates back to the 19th century. Afro, however, was not actually used or was a hair style until the Black Power cultural revolution of the 1960s, so that's why Brook's hair is different._

_5) I talk a lot about men's clothing in this chapter. So, you should probably know some of that terminology.  
Jazz suit: Thin waisted, and tighter jacket, can either be single or double breasted. These were the kinds of suits that people would wear pinstriped or checked ties.  
Sacque suit: Classic suit that most people think of when they think 'suit'. Called a sacque suit (sacque means sack in French) for the loose jacket.  
Knickerbockers: Shorter, baggy pants that were sized plus-twos, -fours, -sixes and it refers to the inches below the knee. They were often worn with golf coats or sacque suit jackets. Most often were of a tweed texture._

_6) I had to anglicize Robin's name, because I don't want her to be Asian. I know, it sounds __awful but bear with it._

_7) Usopp actually has two handguns. Sanji just didn't see the other one, but he gets two pistols._

_8) Hollywood and the glamorification of the gangster era brought up the myth of carrying tommy guns in violin cases. That actually didn't happen. Gangsters were more likely to carry a gun in a newspaper (which were big and bulky back in the day). Brook gets to be an exception because he is actually a musician._

_9) A square is an old-fashioned (but some people still say it) name for a cigarette. It's called that because the paper that they rolled tobacco in was square-shaped._

_10) It's really fucking hard not to include millions of curse words, but Sanji needs a cleaner tongue. It won't last too long. He'll realise that he can curse all he wants to._

_And now that you've read all that shit, enjoy! If you're confused and I left out anything let me know and I'll explain things. And I left a subtle...innuendo/thing in there and I want to see if anyone catches it..._

--

Zoro was standing in front of Le Baratie, his mind mostly blank. He knew how dangerous this was, how careful everyone needed to be, because at any moment one of Don Krieg's men could appear. If that happened, their whole meeting would be ruined, and any chance of convincing Sanji would be over. Zoro had finished checking the area, and even though he'd been careful, someone might still be around. He knew he should be paying attention and staying alert, but all Zoro could think about was how glad he was that it was day and that neon light was off. It was a small detail, but one that he could appreciate. If something came up, Zoro would much prefer to fight without it's annoying popping distracting him.

It would be a blessing if nothing came up, considering what they were here to do. _To convince Sanji Nero to let us take over his liquor supply. To remove Don Krieg's influence in the area. To begin putting Luffy in a position of power._

He glanced up and down the street one last time, and, seeing nobody, he opened the restaurant's door. The lights in the dining room were off, and with only the mid-afternoon light, the room was dark and gloomy. A prickling feeling settled at the base of his neck, ominous. Considering the potential danger of this meeting, the empty, dim room didn't bode well.

"Oi, cook," Zoro called out. He took a couple steps further into the room and glanced around it. His eyes fell on the door to the kitchen. Zoro looked around, double checking just in case he had missed something- had missed Don Krieg or any of his members hiding in the shadows- and then he walked to the kitchen. With his hand on the door, pressing lightly, it swung open. "You could turn the lights on in there. Unless they are off to prevent anyone from looking in as you kill me. If that's the plan, let me know so we can get it over with."

He stepped into the kitchen. It was just as empty as the other room. Zoro walked in further, looking around. It was a nice kitchen with long blue pearl stone granite counters. There was a deep sink and next to it a large stove with eight burners. Near the back was a large, white container, which Zoro assumed to be one of those new ice-boxes. He could see why a chef would love this kitchen. Zoro could also see that this would have been expensive to build. The granite, if he remembered correctly, couldn't be found in North America, so importing that would not have been cheap. And the racks of knives and cast-iron pans seemed like they might have cost over a hundred dollars.

He didn't think that Sanji would have that kind of money. Don Krieg had it, though. Don Krieg might have paid for this kitchen. If so, what had Sanji given in return for it? Or was it just because Sanji ran the speakeasy? For the first time, Zoro wondered just how much Don Krieg would fight to keep this place under his control. Don Krieg didn't seem like the kind of man to invest in something and let it go relatively peaceably.

A noise to Zoro's left caused him to look to the other door in the room. It moved slightly, jerked. Then it slowly began to swing open. From where he was standing, Zoro could only see the door, and not the figure behind it. That person, however, quickly swiveled their position and Zoro recognized it as the chef. Sanji stopped when he saw Zoro, his eyes wide.

Sanji was holding a large box that looked as though it had been hastily stuffed. The variety of items- most of which appeared to be simple utensils- were in no apparent order. Zoro wondered exactly what they were for. It was most likely for cooking, but Zoro wasn't quite sure how candles and rope fit into that assumption.

The cook quickly set the box on the counter behind him and whipped back around to face Zoro. Sanji didn't look like the professional he had been at their first meeting. His hair was disheveled and his tie crooked. And there was something about his eyes that made Zoro wonder if Sanji had been crying.

"What are you doing here?" Sanji said as he smoothed his hair down into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He straightened and tightened his tie. "You're thirty minutes earlier than Nami said you would be."

"It would have been an hour, but I got lost," Zoro said, fully expecting the cook to make fun of his poor directional skills. Everyone else Zoro knew did. But Sanji only looked more strained. "I was told to check out the area before everyone else got here."

"Oh," said Sanji. Zoro wasn't quite sure what kind of 'oh' that was. "And is all fine?"

"Yeah. No one's out there." Sanji looked relieved. More relieved than Zoro had expected him to. If Luffy, Nami, Zoro and the others were discovered, Don Krieg would come after them for trying to take his property. Except Zoro just felt excited. Zoro could understand, though, what Sanji was going through. He knew that Sanji was risking everything just by meeting them. "So you don't have to worry. Once you meet Luffy you'll see that we can help you."

"I'm sure," he said skeptically. He reached into his pants pocket to pull out his tobacco case. In there were two already rolled cigarettes, and Sanji took one and fitted it between his lips. He lit it and stashed the case away back in his pocket. "I'll find out when I see them."

"All right then, but you should expect them soon. I'm surprised that they aren't here already. Luffy was getting anxious and begged to come with me. Nami told him no, but I'm not sure how much longer she can hold him off."

Sanji frowned. "Will the lovely Nami be joining us then?"

"Yes, but she isn't the only other one coming. Everyone wanted to meet you," Zoro said. "This is our first big chance to put ourselves out there. If we get rid of Don Krieg and become your liquor supply, then we will have made a big win."

"I see. Well, if it's _such_ a big deal," Sanji said. He smoothed out his double-breasted jazz suit jacket. "I suppose I should be out there to welcome them." Sanji stepped around Zoro, his shoulder brushing Zoro's own. He stopped at the door, looked back and Zoro, and said, "Shouldn't you be coming too? They are your people."

"Yeah, I'm coming." He turned around to leave the kitchen, but his eyes lingered on the box, wondering once again why it held ropes and candles. Zoro didn't let it bother him, though, and he followed Sanji out of the kitchen. "Oh, and they aren't _my _people. We're Luffy's."

"Yes, of course you are," Sanji said curtly. Zoro had a response, but the bell above the door dinged. It opened to reveal Nami. Nami had her red overcoat on, but with a soft pink blouse underneath. She had her head turned away from them and was laughing at someone behind her. As Nami stepped further into the restaurant, the door framed another, darker-haired woman in a deep green, knee-length dress coat.

"Zoro, dear," Nami said. Her eyes were glittering, and Zoro knew that always spelled trouble- usually for him. "I see you made it here. Good, but I want to know what exactly you said to make Luffy so determined to arrive thirty minutes before schedule. Robin and I were barely able to convince him to wait as long as he did. You _did_ make sure no one was around? Because you know how Luffy can cause trouble even when there isn't any trouble to begin with. Honestly, Zoro, you should be more careful when you speak to him. What if he had arrived and Don Krieg or one of his men were around and he acted as carelessly as he usually does? What good would our plan be then?"

Zoro struggled to control his desire to make sure this woman never spoke to him in such a way as she was. He was tired of her disrespect. It wasn't his fault Luffy was uncooperative and didn't always listen to those people around him. He was about to say such when Sanji bounded forward and took Nami's hand into his own.

"Mademoiselle," he said, bending so that he could press his lips to the back of her hand. "It is a pleasure to see your heavenly features once more. I feel blessed that one such as I am graced by you and your ravishing companion. Bonjour, cherie, I am Sanji, but you may call me Prince, if you so wish."

Sanji was clasping Robin's hands between his own. She smiled and blushed politely. "A pleasure to meet you," she said in her smooth voice. Sanji brought one of Robin's hands to his lips. He kissed it just on the underside of her wrist.

Nami coughed softly, and Sanji moved his focus back to her. "Sanji, may I introduce to you Robin Nico."

"A robin, is it?" Sanji said. "Well, my dear, you are certainly as lovely as one, and the sight of you has awoken something within me as fresh as the spring you herald."

"Sanji, sir," Robin began. "You are too kind, by far. Yet, I believe, now is not the time for such flattery. Our companions should be arriving soon."

"Of course," Sanji took Nami's hand and guided her and Robin down into the room. He pulled out chairs for them and seated himself between the two women.

Zoro watched this exchange, realizing that he shouldn't get involved. Either Nami would turn and snap at him for being useless or Sanji would become defensive. It wasn't worth it. Zoro walked toward the front of the restaurant, hoping that nobody would see him leave and try to stop him. There was no reason why he should stay in here and watch that chef flirt. He'd rather stay outside the restaurant and keep watch.

Zoro was just walking out of the restaurant as Luffy and Usopp dashed in.

--

Sanji was flattering Nami and Robin as he casually watched Roronoa Zoro. He would have much preferred his company to the women's, but something told him Zoro and he wouldn't get along. Zoro didn't seem to like him. And the other man's brusque attitude and ridiculous green hair were quite a turn off.

Robin said something to him, and he turned his attention to her for a moment. By the time he looked back, Zoro had vanished and was replaced by two young men, both of whom were very loud. Sanji briefly wondered where Zoro had gone, but then the two men were heading towards his table. He stood up, unsure of how to greet these strangers.

Both wore long knickerbockers, which Sanji guessed were plus-fours or more. One of them had dark brown hair that was slicked back with gel. Over a white shirt was a pair of tan suspenders that matched the tweed of his pants. He had a long nose, and Sanji wondered if he was of Polish descent.

The other's hair was black and he had left it messy. His knickerbockers were black with a double hem. Sanji noted the unevenly rolled sleeves and un-tucked shirt underneath a deep gray vest. Sanji could see a thin scar underneath his left eye. On his head was a straw-knit fedora with a bright red sash around it.

"Sanji," Nami said, standing. She walked toward the pair and linked her arm with the black-haired one. "May I introduce Usopp." The one wearing suspenders leaned forward to shake Sanji's hand. As he did so, Sanji saw the gun holster hanging at his side. He sucked in his breath at the sight of it. It was dangerous to carry a gun in plain sight in this city.

"Nice to meet you. Did you know I can shoot the eye off a fly at a hundred paces?" Usopp said. He laughed, carefree. Sanji doubted his statement, but the way he said it was rather convincing.

"And this is Luffy," Nami said at the same time the other man said, "And I'm Luffy."

Sanji found it hard to believe that this grinning fool was the man Zoro and Nami had promised would free him. Here and now, at first glance, Luffy wasn't inspiring anything in Sanji. He only felt disbelief. But he wouldn't let that show. They had come out here, and Sanji felt that he should give this unusual character a chance.

"Hi," Sanji held out his hand. Luffy shook it firmly, beaming grin in place. "I'm Sanji."

"Is it true you can cook? Even meat?" Luffy asked, a fervent light shining in his eyes. Sanji nodded, unsure of how this was related to his purpose here. "That's great. That means you'll make food for me, right?"

"If you want," he said awkwardly.

"Good." Luffy nodded. "Lately Nami has been doing all the cooking and she's awful. She burns everything."

"Luffy," Nami said. She brought her fist down on top of his head. Luffy murmured something under his breath, earning another hit to the head. Sanji watched them, unsure of how to act. He felt someone tugging on the elbow of his jacket, and he turned around to see Robin smiling.

"Don't misjudge him just by this exchange. There's more to him than this." Her smile was so reassuring that Sanji began to rescind his earlier judgments. Robin looked past him to Nami. "Why don't we all sit down?"

Sanji had to pull over two more chairs so that Usopp and Luffy could sit down. With five people at their small table, Sanji was pressed closely between Nami and Robin. He pretended to enjoy the closeness as he carefully observed these people. Usopp and Luffy were joking with each other, and Nami and Robin were attempting small talk with him. No one had brought up why they were here.

Suddenly, Luffy stood up, waving and yelling at someone. Sanji followed Luffy's gaze. There were another two men standing just inside the restaurant door. With them was Sanji's short-haired wife. Sanji remembered that she had gone to spend the day with her younger brother, Hacchi. She must have left early to make it back here at the same time Luffy and his crew did.

"Brook. Franky," Luffy said, waving them over to their table. "You made it."

"That we did. Sorry if we arrived a little later than expected, but we encountered Caimie dear on the way and I insisted on escorting her," said one. He was tall, taller than Sanji. He had dark skin and dark hair that was cut close around his head. Sanji could see something poking out over his shoulder, and when the man stepped closer, he could tell that it was a violin case. He directed Caimie towards the table and pulled out a chair for her before sitting down in his own seat.

The other man was broad shouldered, broad-chested. With a strong face and cleft chin, he seemed more imposing and more like the gangsters Sanji had known. If he had entered earlier, Sanji might have guessed him to be Luffy. He certainly looked like he might be. Or so Sanji thought until the man stretched his arms above his head diagonally, striking a pose and causing his sacque suit jacket to rise above his waistline and his pants bunch around his thighs. It made it seem like he wore his clothing a size too small on purpose. Make that three sizes too small.

"And that is why I'm super," the man said. Sanji assumed he was addressing Caimie, who was currently blushing and trying to wave away the two men's affection. She was doing a good job of playing the demure, constant wife. It surprised him to see how good she was at it. He supposed that all these years of hiding from Don Krieg's wandering gaze had honed that act to perfection.

"Oh-ho-ho," the tall man laughed. He stopped and stared down at Caimie. In all seriousness, he said, "My dear, I was wondering if you would allow me a glimpse at what lies beneath that lovely gown you're wearing."

Caimie's mouth opened, shocked. Sanji sprang to his feet, ready to defend his wife's honor, because even if he wasn't romantically or sexually committed, she was still his friend. Behind him, however, was carefree, uninhibited laughter. Sanji looked over his shoulder to see Luffy, cackling as though there was nothing wrong with the man's previous statement. The broad-shouldered man walked over to Sanji and gently patted him on the back.

"Don't worry, Brook says that to every woman he meets. He's never serious." The man held out his hand. Sanji shook it. In the background, Sanji heard the tall man- Brook- mutter something about always being serious. "My name's Franky."

"Sanji. Nice to meet you." Sanji said. Franky grinned. Sanji found himself instantly liking this man for his forward but warm attitude. Franky pulled out another chair and sat next to Robin. With already so little room, he was forced to sit just outside of the table's range. Brook was in a similar situation, but he placed himself between Luffy and Usopp. Caimie came over to sit next to him.

Sanji looked around at the group of people that had gathered in his restaurant. All of them were strangers. People he had never met- with the exception of Nami. None of them were attempting meaningless small talk, nor had they immediately gotten down to business. They were laughing, joking with each other, and enjoying the atmosphere even in a place they had never been in. Completely natural. Sanji wondered just how different his life would be if he could find people to be completely natural around. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine it with these people.

He was startled out of his reverie by someone speaking to him. Sanji cleared his head and turned his attention to that person.

"So," Nami was saying, "have you considered the offer?"

All joking and banter stopped, and the table's patrons sobered. Luffy turned his attention to Sanji, and he was unable to take his blue eyes off the black ones across from him. He could feel twelve eyes on him, making his insides squirm. Sanji glanced at Caimie. She smiled bitterly, then nodded. Sanji understood. This decision ultimately came down for Sanji to make.

"Yes." It was the answer to Nami's question, but he was specifically addressing Luffy. Sanji noted the change in the man who moments before had been full of humor. Now Sanji saw determination set in his features.

"So you'll do it," Luffy nodded as though the matter had been settled in that one word answer. "Good."

"No. Not necessarily," Sanji quickly corrected him. "Caimie and I talked about it, and we are…intrigued. In theory, this seems sound. Except I can't believe that it will actually work. I've seen Don Krieg and how he works. I don't see how anyone can take him down."

"I will," Luffy said. Sanji looked him over, seeing only a slender young man wearing a serious face. Compared to the brute strength of Krieg he wasn't sure exactly what Luffy could do.

"Y-yes, but-"

"I _will_," Luffy repeated. Sanji looked into those dark eyes, searching for false bravado. He saw none, only sheer confidence and belief in himself. It disappeared, though, and was replaced with a light smile. "I'll get rid of him, and then you'll be able to cook for me whenever I want. Right?"

Sanji thought it was odd that food was his first priority and not the speakeasy. "If you can manage to do that, the you're welcome to come by Baratie any time you want."

"Then I'll do it."

"Only for the food? You don't want the speakeasy and the liquor supply."

Luffy laughed. Next to Sanji Nami scowled. "Oh. That. I guess I do. That was actually Zoro's and Nami's idea. She wants the money we can earn from it. And I think Zoro wants a place to drink."

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to this. Luffy was solely interested in him for his cooking skills. He wanted a chef, not a man to house bootleg liquor and bathtub gin. "If you aren't interested in the speakeasy, then why did you decide to come to me in the first place?"

"I'm helping Shanks keep a promise. When I told him I was moving to Enies, he told me about this restaurant and a man he knew here. Shanks said he promised to watch out for you." _A man he knew here_. Luffy's words echoed in his mind. _Does he mean Zeff?_ "I said I'd check on you. And when I learned you had good food, I had to come here myself. But Nami said that if I came then Don Krieg would see me, and if he did I might not get what I want."

"And what is it you want that requires you to keep Krieg from seeing you?"

Luffy looked at Sanji as though he had asked the most pointless question. Then he broke out laughing. "To control the city."

He said it as though it were a done deed, and it was time to wait until he happened. Matter of fact. Sanji pictured Luffy as believing that knew it would happen without fail. Sanji imagined for a brief moment that it would happen. But that image vanished abruptly.

"I see," Sanji said. Luffy was still beaming, and everyone else at the table was smiling as well. Sanji even looked over to Caimie and saw a glimmer in her eyes. Perhaps it was hope, he saw, or latent tears of relief. Sanji wasn't convinced, though. "And how will this happen exactly?"

"I take out Don Krieg. Then Buggy and Whitebeard."

"Just like that. It's not that simple."

"It is."

"How can you do that?"

Franky entered the conversation. "We thought you might be able to help with that."

"For several reasons," Nami said. "With control over the liquor here, we would earn money that will help us meet our goals. Most importantly,you know more about Don Krieg than anyone outside his gang, Sanji. You know where he stays, where he gets his own alcohol, and you can tell us when he comes to Baratie."

"Yes," Sanji said hesitantly. It was true that he knew all the things she mentioned. But he couldn't use that information to help them. Don Krieg would find out and ruin Sanji. "I can't. Don Krieg will learn about it. And if that happens, he'll take the restaurant, the speakeasy, and he may even decide to kill me or Caimie."

"How can he take the restaurant?" Luffy asked.

"My guess is that the deed to Baratie is in his name," Robin answered before Sanji had a chance to speak. "Am I right?"

Sanji nodded. "There is no way he'll allow that to be changed."

"I believe we can fix that," said Robin. "We can get it the deed from him and forge his signature for the transfer of ownership."

Sanji didn't doubt that. "Yes, but it has to be witnessed by a judge, and most of Enies' judges are accepting bribes from him."

"We have that covered," Nami said. She gestured to Luffy who was silently watching this exchange. Sanji frowned. "There is a certain judge who owes us a favor for saving his daughter's life. And he has no love for Don Krieg."

"All right, you have that angle covered, but how do you expect to get close enough to him to be able to get a hold of the deed?" Sanji asked, trying to suppress this curiosity and tiny ray of hope. A part of his brain was telling him that this was a definite escape from Don Krieg, and that he would enjoy the company of Luffy, Nami, and the others.

"I used to be a thief," Nami said, pulling something out from her lap. Sanji immediately recognized the silver of his tobacco case. He patted his jacket and did not feel the constant protrusion it made when inside the pocket.

"When did you take that?" Sanji said, reaching for it. Nami handed it back with a wicked smile.

"When we first sat down."

"Oh," Sanji said. He deposited the case inside his jacket before looking around at the expectant faces. He didn't know what to say. His mind was trying to process the situation and struggling not to immediately acquiesce. They seemed so convincing, and there was something about Luffy that made him want to trust him completely. The bumbling fool he had first believed him to be was not what he saw now in front of him. Sanji believed Luffy when he said that he would win. But he couldn't say yes just yet. Because it wasn't only about him. "Caimie, what do you think of this?"

She met Sanji's gaze and spoke softly. "Sanji, I- I think Luffy can do this. I trust them, but ultimately this is your decision to make. Baratie was always your first love and your dream."

Sanji didn't find her words as reassuring as he might have hoped. He needed a cigarette to clear his head and give him a chance to think. Sanji stood up, glancing around at the seven people in front of him. "Ex-excuse me, please. I'm going to need a moment or two to think this over. I'll just be outside. Caimie, could you please offer refreshments?"

She nodded, and Sanji acknowledged it and the others at the table before walking away and outside. The sunlight hit him, and he had to cover his eyes as he waited for his vision to adjust. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The tobacco filled his lungs.

Sanji heard a scuffling nearby. He looked around until he found its source. Zoro was leaning against the outside wall. His long, body stretched out, and Sanji found himself tracing his gaze over it, imagining what he might look like outside of that suit. He shook his head. This was definitely not the time to develop an interest in Zoro.

"So," Zoro said, startling Sanji out of his examination. "What did you think of Luffy?"

"He's…interesting."

"That's an understatement." Zoro broke away from the wall and turned to face Sanji.

"I suppose. He's not like I thought he would be. And," Sanji paused to take another puff of the square. "He isn't as immature as I thought he was when I first saw him. He's much more-"

"Entertaining?" Zoro supplied.

"That and-," Sanji tried to find the right word.

"He's so confident that it completely overwhelms any reluctance you had earlier." Sanji nodded. "Yeah. He does that to people, and I don't think he knows it."

"I can see that." A moment of silence fell between them. Then Zoro broke it.

"What did you think of our offer?" Sanji didn't answer. He still wasn't quite sure. "Are you considering it?"

"I am."

"You should say yes," Zoro said in a nonchalant manner. Sanji didn't feel as though Zoro were trying to persuade him but was merely observing and restating a fact.

"Why?"

"Because you won't have to deal with a tyrant, constantly wondering if you're safe. Because Luffy won't care how you use that expensive kitchen you've got in there. He'll probably just come in every night for your food." Suddenly Zoro smirked. It was such an unpredictable expression on the other man's face. "And because you're already fucked for meeting with us, so you might as well say yes and go all the way."

He couldn't believe that Zoro had said something so obscene- not that Sanji hadn't ever cursed in his life- but the complete disregard for propriety and the informal address shocked Sanji. But something about it was humorous. Sanji laughed, and with that action he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

"I think I just might say yes," Sanji said. He took one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it down.

"Good."

Sanji and Zoro stared at one another a moment. An invisible line of tension was beginning to form between them. Sanji wondered if, after this moment, they would be able to have another such conversation. He could see that Zoro was already withdrawing into his curt manner.

"I guess I'd better head inside to tell them the good news," Sanji said.

"I guess so."

"So I'm going to go do that." Sanji moved toward the door.

"Once you get in there, ask Usopp to come out here. Tell him it's his turn at watch. I'm tired of standing out here." Zoro said. Sanji nodded. He pushed open the door and was stepping inside when Zoro spoke again. "Oh, I meant to ask this earlier, but why were you carrying a box full of candles and rope?"

Sanji blushed, grasping for a convincing answer that wouldn't give away the real reason. He didn't want to admit that he had begun throwing away things that he and Gin wouldn't use anymore. "Oh. I was cleaning out some supplies I had left in the apartment upstairs."

"Hmm," Zoro said. Sanji hoped he had believed him. He hurried back into the restaurant, fully prepared to tell Luffy that he accepted.

--

Zoro watched the chef walk back into the restaurant, wondering what about Sanji piqued his curiosity so much. He was glad the other man had agreed to their offer. It would be interesting to work with Sanji and to see what change the chef could do.


	5. Part V

_Author's notes:_

1) I forgot to mention in the last chapter that fedoras were mostly made out of felt, but they also were made out of straw, which works wonderfully for the purposes of putting Luffy into the story.

2) Duval is driving and Superfiat 520, a car that was really popular and sleek during the 1920s. Here is one.

-

"Mr. Roronoa, sir, what can I get for you this evening?" Zoro looked up from his menu to see Caimie standingbeside his table. She wore a knee-length, three-tiered burgundy dress that countered the green of her eyes. Zoro smiled while thinking in the back of his mind how its thin straps made her neck look long and elegant.

Zoro was currently sitting at a table in Le Baratie. Around him the room was filled with people enjoying their Friday night. All the smaller tables were full, and the one large table near the back was occupied by a certain Italian and his gang. Sanji had assured them that Don Krieg would be here tonight, saying that he spent his Fridays here. And for that reason, Zoro was now poised in a position to monitor Krieg's table and one near by it where Nami and Robin sat. Their job this evening was to lure Don Krieg's men, to flatter them, and to flirt just enough that it doesn't appear they're trying to attract Krieg's attention, but just enough to be invited back to Don Krieg's establishment.

He didn't doubt their acting skills, nor did he doubt that these women could easily receive that invitation. But Zoro doubted whether this ridiculous and haphazard plan would work. It was the only semi-plausible one they had thought of, having already disregarded Luffy's suggestion of busting through their walls in an effort to reclaim the deed or Franky's suggestion that they overwhelm their systems with opium to make Krieg compliant. And it certainly was sounder than Luffy's second suggestion of lighting their building on fire so that they could sneak it as it turned to ashes and recover the deed. He didn't understand why this wouldn't work until Usopp explained to him that the deed was on a piece of _paper_ and that paper tends to burn.

But still, it was hard to believe that they would actually have the opportunity to find where Don Krieg kept the deed, steal it, and successfully leave without raising any sort of alarm. Zoro could only trust to them, because his only responsibility was to make sure none of Don Krieg's men meant Nami or Robin any harm, at least initially before they stole the deed.

"Zoro, sir?" Caimie said, pulling Zoro out of his contemplations. "Do you need a few more moments to look at the menu?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I've never heard of most of these dishes or ingredients before."

"Oh," Caimie said. She giggled. "You don't actually know anything about food, do you?"

"Not really," Zoro admitted. He thought back to the days when he had lived off onigiri and basic noodles. That was years ago, though, back when he still was in Japan- back before _Kuina_. Zoro pushed away the memories. Now was not the time to sift through his emotional baggage. "Nami and Robin were the ones who told me what to say about the halibut. I really had no idea what was in it."

"Sanji will be disappointed," said Caimie. Zoro didn't have time to think about what that meant. She stepped closer to Zoro and pointed to certain items as she spoke. "If you're in the mood for something simple, I recommend the penne pasta with the basil and pesto sauce and chicken breast. If you want something more beefy, try the standing rib roast and mashed potatoes. If you're interested in seafood, you can always have the halibut again."

Zoro glanced over the descriptions of the dishes she had mentioned, the majority of the words still foreign. "The penne pasta sounds safe."

"Good choice," she said and whisked away the menu before turning to a different table. Zoro watched her glide away, hips swaying suggestively. Zoro looked away. He wasn't one to harbor affection for a married woman. Zoro was able to accept that he had no chance with her- unlike Brook who was still asking after her undergarments. She was married. To Sanji, the man who would soon own the restaurant in which Zoro sat. He wasn't going to jeopardize Luffy's interests here just because he was attracted to Caimie.

Nor did he want to jeopardize his relationship with Sanji. Zoro saw in him someone who could be a friend, even a good one that he could trust. If that was even a possibility in their society. Everyone in Enies- in all of America, he supposed- found it hard to trust, knowing that his or her neighbour could be in another's pay. Amongst Luffy's crew, Zoro had no problems trusting any of them; Luffy would never befriend anybody who wasn't genuine. Nami, Robin, Luffy, Usopp and the rest could all be trusted, and people that Zoro considered friends. But upon meeting Sanji, Zoro had realized how nice it might be to have a friend that wasn't already entangled in the insanity of the gang that Luffy had created.

Zoro put those thoughts away and concentrated on Nami and Robin. He heard the temptation in Nami's throaty laugh, and he knew that one of the men at Krieg's table had heard it, too, by the glances in her direction. Zoro saw how Robin fluttered her eyes when those looks turned to her, subtly lowering her eyes to half-mast. As more of the men brought their attention to the two ladies, Don Krieg followed their gazes. He twisted around to see Nami, who realizing that Krieg had turned around and using it to her advantage widened her eyes in surprise. She blushed as a proper lady might at seeing a handsome man glance in her direction. Zoro didn't really want to watch this interchange, but he knew he must as he had promised Luffy.

And so he watched as Don Krieg stood up slowly, settling his napkin on his chair and taking his time to straighten out his black pin-striped suit. Zoro ignored his first instinct, which was to leap up and force Krieg's hand off Robin's shoulder and shove him away from her. The woman was like a sister to him, and he didn't want Don Krieg's lips to brush her ear as he whispered flirtations to her. Another man, tall and gangly, was near to Nami. Zoro didn't like his slicked-back hair that glistened with overuse of gel nor the upturn of his nose. His face was eerily similar to that of an ape's.

Yet, neither in Krieg's nor the other man's eyes did he see any hints of malice. Only a desire and lust, which Zoro was sure they assumed Nami and Robin shared. There were a few more words said by Krieg- all of which muffled and unheard across the room- and then Nami and Robin were nodding. They stood, giggling and gesturing to Don Krieg and his men. Krieg had called to Caimie, and was currently handing her a few bills. He waved a hand in the direction of Nami and Robin's table. Nami would certainly appreciate that Krieg was paying for their meal, the greedy broad that she was.

Krieg and the lanky man moved to Nami and Robin, extending their arms to the two women. The mafia boss and his posse walked out of the restaurant. They passed Zoro's table, and Nami and Robin never spared a glance for him, almost pointedly avoiding his gaze. It was the sign that all would be well, and Zoro should wait for them back at the Thousand Sunny Inn. With his peripheral vision, he watched them exit the restaurant, and then turned his attention to his dinner, which had arrived several minutes earlier.

He ate swiftly but not hastily. And when he finished, he reached into his wallet to pay the bill. Caimie was next to him, laying her hand on his arm.

"It's on the house," she said quietly. Nami would appreciate _that_, too, considering it was her money he was about to spend. "Consider it an early thank you."

Zoro nodded and left a dollar on the table as a tip. He said to Caimie in just as quiet of a voice. "So far everything is going according to plan. It's all in theirs hands now. All we can do is wait and hope that Usopp and his sniping will provide enough cover for them when they leave."

"I understand," Caimie said. She looked around the room, hoping no one would notice their prolonged conversation.

"I'll be back later to let you know how things went. It will be late. After that, Cobra is expecting us, and we'll go straight there. Let Sanji know, will you?" Caimie nodded. Zoro stood up and headed toward the exit. If luck were with them, he'd be back here in a few hours with good news.

--

It was late. Much later than Sanji had expected. He had assumed that Zoro would arrive by one, but it had come and passed. And then he had thought no later than two. But now it was 2:30 and the man had still not arrived. His eyes were drooping, and his muscles felt weak as they gripped the coffee mug. It was his third cup. His legs ached, seemingly begging to be stretched but couldn't be, because too much movement would disturb Caimie. Sanji's young wife had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he was too nice to wake her up, even for a brief respite. Sanji had considered carrying her upstairs, but she had insisted on staying here to hear whether Nami had successfully stolen the deed. He hadn't been able to refuse her; Le Baratie was her home, too, and he respected her wish to accompany him tonight.

Sanji found himself dozing, his thoughts and worries about Nami, the deed, and Roronoa Zoro fading away slowly. He almost mistook the knocking on the restaurant's door for his heartbeat. The still conscious part of his brain recognized it for what it was. He gently rested Caimie's head on the table, hoping she wasn't disturbed too much, and hurried to the door. It made a gentle click as he unlocked it.

He yanked it open to reveal Luffy and Zoro. Zoro looked tired and mentally exhausted, and Sanji imagined that his own expression must be a mirror image. Luffy, on the other hand, was all exuberance and excitement. He beamed.

"We got it," he said. Sanji's racing heart quieted slightly, only to be raised again with the burgeoning hope he now felt. "Well, Nami got it, but we have it."

"Can- can I see it?" Sanji said. He trusted them, but seeing it would make it _real_, rather than an intangible feeling.

"It's not with us. Nami is still holding onto it, but she, Robin, and Franky are already on their way to Cobra's," Zoro said. "Where we need to be soon. It's already late enough, and tonight may be our only chance since he's scheduled in court all next week."

Sanji nodded. He reached over to the coat rack beside the door and grabbed his overcoat. He shrugged into it, and was just stepping out the door when he felt someone tug on the back of his sleeve. Sanji looked back into Caimie's eyes.

"I'm coming, too."

He knew what her answer would be, but he had to ask anyway. "Are you sure? You look so tired, and you were just sleeping."

"I'm sure."

"Then let's _go_ already," Luffy said. Sanji placed his hand at the small of Caimie's back and ushered her outside. He turned to lock the door, his fingers shaking in anticipation of what lay ahead. He could finally be the owner of Le Baratie, even though he only became so through illegal means. Well, _mostly_ illegal means.

Once the door was locked, Sanji hurried after Luffy and Zoro who had begun walking toward a long, black 520 Superfiat. Caimie had her arm linked around Zoro's, and he was helping her up and into the passenger's seat. Unexpectedly, Sanji felt a pang of jealously, and it made no sense for him to be jealous of Zoro.

Sanji clambered into the car after Luffy. He realized after Zoro began scooting into the car than Sanji would be placed between the two gangsters. The car was wide enough for all three to be comfortable, but not so wide that Sanji shoulder wasn't so obviously brushing against Zoro's. He swallowed nervously, unsure why closeness to the other man was affecting him so. It made no sense, and he tried to shake the feeling.

A man turned around to face Sanji from the driver's seat. He had deep, chiseled features that appeared as though someone had forced that face upon him. The man introduced himself as Duval, and Sanji responded with his own name. Duval turned back around and started the car, turning on the headlights as he drove down East Blue Street and away from Sanji's restaurant.

The car's occupants were silent, and not even Luffy tried to break through the tension and anticipation. Sanji, however, was trying to avoid letting his body shake in relief and tears to form in his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"So, Zoro," Sanji began. The green-haired man turned to look at him. Sanji tried to focus on his eyes rather than Zoro's lips. "What did you think of the penne and pesto chicken? Was it as good as the halibut?"

The other man opened his mouth, but no words came out. A confused look crossed Zoro's features. "It was…good."

"Yes, of course it was," Sanji said without any hint of modesty. "What did you think of the paprika that I sprinkled on the top? Did you notice the tarragon in the pesto sauce?"

Zoro made some sort of noncommittal noise. Sanji ignored it, too lost in his own fascination with his food. "I'm considering making a similar dish where the chicken is stuffed with the pesto before baking."

"You can do that?" Luffy said, saliva drooling out the side of his mouth. Sanji nodded. "Zoro, did you know you could do that?"

"Uh," Zoro said. The man had turned his gaze on the floor and seemed to be studying the carpet very intensely. Sanji heard Caimie laughing at the front of the car. She looked back at the three men.

"Sanji, love," she said, "Zoro confided to me earlier that he, in fact, knows nothing about food. Those compliments toward your halibut were all from Nami."

He was stunned for a moment, but then he studied Zoro. Knowing now that Zoro was completely ignorant made sense. The man was too brutish looking, Sanji thought. There was no way that he could really understand good cuisine. For as much as Sanji disliked pigeon-holing people, it fit with Zoro's physique. Sanji should never have expected to find somebody that looked as good as Zoro did that also understood food.

"So you lied to me," Sanji said. Zoro shook his head.

"No. Just because it wasn't something I thought of doesn't mean it wasn't true."

"Yes. Was it all just to lure me out to speak to you?"

"Would you have come and talked to me if I hadn't said those things?" Zoro asked. _No,_ Sanji thought, _I wouldn't have_.

"Well, you could have mentioned this earlier," said Sanji.

"And how was I supposed to do that," Zoro said, "_cook_?"

Sanji was annoyed by the replacement of his name. "You could have thought of something, _plant-head_."

He wasn't expecting Zoro to laugh at that. He was hoping Zoro would be just as annoyed at the epithet as Sanji had been. But Zoro was laughing as he spoke: "Marimo."

"What?"

"It's marimo," Zoro said. Sanji had no idea where Zoro was going with this. "My hair is the color of marimo. It's a type of seaweed that's really popular in Japan."

"Oh. If you say so, _marimo_," Sanji said. It didn't matter what name he called Zoro as long as it wasn't Zoro; if Zoro were only going to say 'cook' to him, then he would only say 'marimo'. Sanji would have to look through one of Zeff's old cookbooks to see if this seaweed could be cooked.

Zoro turned his head and met Sanji's gaze. "If it means anything, tonight's meal was great."

Sanji stared into Zoro's onyx eyes, feeling as though he could be easily trapped in them. He wanted to let them trap him, even though he was still frustrated at Zoro. Sanji might have continued staring if the car hadn't stopped and Luffy hadn't cried out, "We're here!"

"Whatever, _marimo_," Sanji said, forcing himself to look away and at their surroundings. They were in one of the richer neighbourhoods, Sanji realized. The houses around them loomed over their car with their large turrets and ivy-covered brick walls. He stepped out of the car and looked up at the house Luffy was currently running towards.

It was on the corner of the street, and before he walked through the iron gate, Sanji glanced at the street sign. Arabasta Avenue. That meant they were in the Little Garden neighbourhood. Don Krieg lived around here. _We really are playing this close_, Sanji thought. He shrugged and trudged after Zoro and Caimie. She was admiring her surroundings, and it pained Sanji to think about how she deserved a house like this and not a small apartment over Le Baratie. Maybe in the future, he could get something like this for them.

A man was standing in the doorframe, a finger over his mouth to signal silence. He wore a navy blue suit in typical Edwardian fashion, double-breasted with trousers that cut off just above the ankle and tucked into his boots. He signaled for them to enter. Luffy, Zoro, and Caimie entered without any hesitation, but Sanji paused a moment to do a double take over the man's shoulder length, curly hair that reminded Sanji of a wig out of the eighteenth century.

"Sir, please hurry in. It won't be good for Judge Nefertari's reputation if you are seen here," the man said, the barest hint of an English accent behind his words. Sanji obeyed. The man ushered Sanji through a long, arching hallway and into an office that smelled strongly of must and old paper. Sanji didn't see Luffy in the room, but Zoro and Caimie were there along with another man. He wore a deep purple robe. There were bags under his eyes, and he looked as though he had just been woken up and was thoroughly annoyed about it.

"Thank you, Igaram. I'll take care of the rest, now go to bed already," the man said. He waved Sanji into the room, not waiting for a response from Igaram. "You must be Sanji Nero. Please come in. I'm Cobra Nefertari, and I understand I'm supposed to be a judicial witness for the signing over of this deed."

He lifted a paper into the air, on which Sanji immediately recognized the words Le Baratie and Don Krieg's signature. His breath caught in his chest, and all he could do was nod in response.

"Well then, let's get this over with. It's far past time I was asleep. Your pretty wife, too, by the looks of her," Cobra said. Sanji glanced at Caimie. She was standing unsteadily on her feet and leaning against Zoro's arm. She shouldn't be here. "Come."

Sanji stepped over to where Cobra was. The man dipped a feather pen into the inkwell beside him and handed the pen to Sanji. With a finger, he indicated where Sanji should sign. He did so, dotting the 'I' and 'J' with a flourish. His hand was shaking when he handed the pen back. An eerie calmness washed over him as he watched Cobra sign beneath Sanji's name. Cobra sprinkled sand over the paper so that the ink could dry more quickly. It all seemed to be happening so slowly, and it felt like Sanji was watching each individual grain of sand soak up whatever moisture the ink had not given to the page.

Then suddenly Cobra was rolling the paper up and handing it to Sanji. Sanji took it awkwardly. As his fingers wrapped around the deed, it hit him that it was now his. He had known when he signed what it meant, but only now, holding the deed, did he know that Le Baratie was his and he could do whatever he wanted to with it. Don Krieg no longer held sway over him. Le Baratie was Sanji's. It was free from Krieg.

Sanji knew he was crying, but it didn't matter. Caimie came to stand next to him, her hand resting against his arm. He turned and pulled her into an embrace. She hugged him back, and the two stood like that for a minute before being interrupted by Cobra as he cleared his throat.

"Sentimental as this is, I'm going to have to ask you to stop. And leave before you get me and yourselves into trouble." Sanji nodded and let Cobra guide them out of the room. Sanji could hear Zoro shuffling behind him and Caimie and briefly wondered what Zoro was thinking. They stopped walking when Cobra ducked into an adjacent room. Sanji peeked in to see him begin to talk with Luffy. He was with Nami, Robin, and another young girl.

"Luffy," Cobra said. "I did what you asked, and now it's time for you and your friends to leave. I've helped you now and in the past in thanks for saving Vivi, but I don't think I can keep doing this. I'm getting old and my colleagues are just waiting for me to slip up so they can take my position as a justice on the state supreme court."

"All right," Luffy said. He didn't make any move to argue with the judge. "We'll go."

"Nami," Cobra turned to address the two women, both of whom looked ready to collapse. "You and Robin are welcome to stay here for the night. Vivi will gladly appreciate your company. Luffy, Zoro, it was good to see you again."

Luffy nodded in agreement then wheeled around, linking his arms with Franky's. He pulled him out of the room and out of the front door. Luffy turned his head to call back to Zoro. "Zoro, go with Duval to take Sanji and Caimie home. I'll see you back at Thousand Sunny."

Zoro grumbled something about not wanting to do all the boring jobs, but he nodded anyway. He extended his arm to Caimie, and together they walked out of the open door and to the car Duval had left outside. Sanji followed absentmindedly. His mind was preoccupied with the rolled piece of paper in his hands and what it signified. Sanji vaguely remembered getting into the Fiat and driving away from the judge's residence. In the back of his mind he heard the small talk between Zoro, Caimie, and Duval, but he had no interest in joining in.

The deed was his. It had his name on it and a judge for a witness. Sanji held the deed to his restaurant. _His _restaurant. Not Don Krieg's. _Mine_, Sanji thought.

"Le Baratie is mine," Sanji said. His fingers curled around the deed protectively. The paper crinkled under his tight grip.

"Sanji," Caimie said. Sanji brought his gaze to meet hers. She smiled, and Sanji knew that it was with all the love and care she could give him. It was the smile of one friend that was truly happy for another. "If you hold it that tightly it will wrinkle or rip. Hand it to me. I'll put it in my bag, and tomorrow we'll take it and place it in a safety deposit box at the bank."

Sanji looked at the paper in his hands and realized what a shame it would be if it did rip. Even if it did rip it will still hold all its meaning, but it wouldn't be so pretty. A silly reason to be sure, but one that made perfect sense in Sanji's mind. He slowly handed the deed over to his wife. She smiled and pocketed it in the small clutch she was carrying with her. Sanji stared at the bag, imagining that he could still see the deed even through the leather.

All the possibilities of what Sanji could now do with Le Baratie ran through his mind. Don Krieg held no more sway over his business. Sanji would remove Krieg's liquor and stop bartending at the speakeasy. If Luffy wanted to keep it open, he would have to find someone else to do that job, because Sanji wanted to dedicate himself more thoroughly to his kitchen. Luffy would let Sanji do that, wouldn't he? Sanji was sure that Luffy wouldn't be as cheap as Krieg and hire another to sell the liquor. _Franky, maybe_, Sanji thought. _Franky would be a good bartender_.

And Sanji would have a plaque made in honor of Zeff, something Krieg hadn't allowed him to put up after the incident. After Zeff killed twenty of Krieg's men in defense of Baratie. After Zeff had continued fighting even with the gunshots he bore. After Krieg broke the chef's one leg and shot him through the head at close range. Sanji forced the memory away, bidding the image of his mentor's brain splashed across the pavement to leave.

The car stopped in front of _his_ restaurant, and Sanji stepped out. The building held a new shine to it for Sanji, as though the paint on the sign was fresh or the roof had just been refinished. It was the same, but still there was something intangibly different about it.

He heard Zoro come to stand next to him, and Sanji turned to look at the other man. His voice caught in his throat, and what he said came out garbled. "Thank you. Tell Luffy- tell him…thank you."

"I'll tell him," Zoro said. "Expect him soon. Tomorrow maybe even. I'm sure he'll be hungry."

"Whatever he wants will be on the house. Whatever any of you want, all your meals next time you come will be on me," Sanji said, trying to fight back tears. Zoro smiled and waved goodbye at him and Caimie before turned to get back into the car. The Fiat pulled down the street quietly, its engine a soft hum in the silent street. "Well, Caimie, shall we get some sleep?"

She nodded, and the pair of them neared Baratie. Sanji looked at an empty spot on the wall next to the door and thought, _I could put the plaque there. _He eyeballed the size and shape of the spot as he pulled out his keys. Sanji slid the key into the hole, twisted it, but heard no click. The door was already unlocked, and Sanji realized that in his hurry to get to the judge's he must have forgotten to lock it. _No matter_.

He pushed the door open and ushered Caimie in. The door shut behind him, and Sanji began to remove his coat. Caimie had taken hers off and hung it over the coat rack. She was just flicking the overhead lights and Sanji was just placing his coat on the rack when he noticed the different shadows that were scattered around the room. He had a brief moment to think that those weren't chairs before the light was on and five men were leaping to their feet, weapons already in hand.

Caimie half-screamed beside him. Sanji moved in front of her and eyed the invaders. One of them he knew by sight, but the other four were just nameless men in Don Krieg's mob. The one he knew stepped in front of the others, his fingers gloved with brass knuckles and a hand plate underneath his palms.

"Well," he said, voice slick and oily. Sanji tried to focus on his face and not on his hands and long, braced arms. "If it isn't our precious Chef Sanji. Home _early_, I see. And what, it's only three in the morning."

"Pearl," Sanji managed to squeeze out of his lungs. His heart was racing in his chest. The other four men in the room all had handguns that were pointed at Sanji and Caimie. He prayed to a silent god that none of them had twitchy fingers. "How can I help you?"

"Don Krieg seems to have misplaced something. He was hoping you might be able to help him find it."

"Surely a private investigator would be more helpful than I am," Sanji said. He wished he hadn't, because now was not the time to be smarty. Pearl sneered.

"Why would the Don waste his money on an investigator when he already knows where it is?"

"If that's the case why does he need me?"

"Well, I'm sure he doesn't _need _you to get the deed. He knows you have it, so we could just kill you now and make Caimie tell us where it is," Pearl said. Sanji felt as though his heart had stopped. They already knew that the deed was gone. Nami must not have been careful enough, or Krieg paid more attention to its presence that Sanji had thought. "Caimie, dear, you would tell us, wouldn't you?"

"Don't touch her," Sanji said. Pearl threw his head back and laughed. "Don't lay one hand on her."

"We won't, but you're going to come with us. Don Krieg needs you to tell him how you got the deed, and who it is that helped you."

"Like hell," Sanji said, hoping that his muscles remembered his Savate training. It had been ages since he'd last used it, and he wished he had practiced because his first kick was sloppy. It connected, though, and his foot slammed into the man on the far left who had his gun pointed at Caimie. Sanji twisted around so that he could knock the gun out of the next man. He did so, and then smashed a heel into the man's temple.

Sanji swiftly knocked down the four men around Pearl. They were felled easily, but Pearl, he knew, would be more difficult. His first kick was blocked, his second dodged. Sanji struggled to regain his balance when the attack fell through. He felt something slide through his pants and into his thigh. Pearl had brought the edge of the disk on his palm across Sanji's leg. The cut was thin but deep. He could block out the pain easily, and Sanji geared himself up for another swing at Pearl.

But then he heard Caimie scream, and Sanji froze in place. She had tears streaming down her pale cheeks and onto the long, metal nightstick underneath her chin. Sanji's heart sank when he recognized the hand that held the weapon.

"Gin," Sanji rasped out. Pearl had stopped moving, and Sanji felt relatively sure than the man wouldn't attack him at this moment. "Gin, let her go." The man didn't move, and his eyes were lowered. "Please, Gin."

"Sanji." Gin's voice was low, and with that one word- with just his name- Sanji knew that Gin was in emotional pain. Gin could never blatantly disobey Krieg, but he probably had never had to hurt his lover either. "Krieg is pissed. That deed was his property, and you know that he doesn't share nor like it when people touch his things without his permission."

Gin raised his head and met Sanji's gaze. His eyes were hard, nothing to announce the pain Sanji was sure he was in. "Gin, let her go."

"I can't, Sanji." Gin said, "You have to come with us. He said that if you don't agree, I have to kill you, and we take Caimie instead. Sanji-"

Sanji's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Caimie's terror-stricken face and decided that he could never let them take her. He wasn't in love with her, but he loved her anyway, and she didn't deserve to be in this situation. Neither did Sanji, for that matter.

He let his shoulders slump, forcing his muscles to relax to show that he truly wasn't going to attack anymore. "All right. All-all right. Just promise you won't hurt her."

"Promise," Gin said. He nodded to someone behind Sanji. Sanji stared into Caimie's eyes, trying to smile and push back the tears to silently reassure her that he was going to be okay. Something hit the back of his head, and he knew that someone had slammed the butt of their gun into him. The ground rushed up to meet him as he rushed down to meet it. The world was fading into blackness. Caimie was yelling his name. Then arms were wrapping around him just before he hit the floor.

"Sanji," Gin said into his ear as unconsciousness overtook him, "You're so stupid sometimes. Why did you do it? Sanji, you can't…"


	6. Part VI

_[Author's Notes: Again, I'm not a horrible person. I love Sanji madly and would do almost anything for him. But I hope you like it.......  
Some things to note:  
1) Salt and ice do horrible things to skin cells. The higher concentration of salt outside the skin causes water to flow out of the cells to create equilibrium. The cells end up dying. Don't do it. It's painful.  
2) A lamé is a curved knife used for shaping breads. Here is one.  
3) Old-fashion vegetable peelers are kind of terrifying.  
4) Meat Tenderizer.  
5) 50 mph is pretty fast for back in the 1920s.  
6) There is a myth that Tommy Guns were carried in violin cases. Completely false, but I figure it fits with Brook's character.  
7) Colt 1911 was a very popular hand gun._

Here we go:]

Caimie had only been able watch silently, tears streaming down her cheeks, as Gin carried Sanji's limp body out of the door. Sanji had been slung over his shoulder, arms drooping and hair fallen. The dim lighting of the room cast a darkness across his features, and with the cook's already pale skin, he'd had a deathly look to him. Gin turned back to her, apologies filling his eyes, and Caimie had to choke back a sob at the obvious pain he must be in.

Before he left, Gin had ordered two men to stay behind. They obliged willingly, and Caimie could feel the hunger and leer in their gazes. She struggled to stave her own fear off, because now she didn't have time to sit around and moan. She needed to get out of Le Baratie and find Zoro. If anyone could help Sanji, it would be him and Luffy. Caimie needed to leave before the oppressive atmosphere Goon-number-one and Goon-number-two created strangled her.

The best and most likely successful escape would be through the back door in the kitchen.

Both men had taken seats at one of the tables and were watching her intently. Caimie struggled to push away her fear. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Can I get either of you two gentlemen something to eat or drink? Coffee, perhaps?"

They exchanged a quick glance and nod. Caimie curtsied hurriedly and rushed toward the kitchen. "Follow her," one of them said. A moment of panic filled her as the man followed her. She could feel his eyes on her, and she whipped her head around to glance at him. He had a rare, threatening look in his eyes, lust-filled and terrifying. Caimie prayed that she could escape without any bodily harm.

She swung the door open. The room seemed cold and dark to her, and Caimie shivered slightly. Without Sanji, the kitchen was merely a stone room built by the man who had ruined his and her lives. Without Sanji-

Caimie held back the fear that Don Krieg would be so angry, so frustrated, that he would conclude that Sanji had outlived his usefulness. The fear that Krieg would kill Sanji and leave her with a life of abuse and painful reminders of a dead friend. She pushed it away, rushing instead to heat some water.

As she stood by the sink, she was aware of the other man's presence. He had drifted from the door and was leaning against the counter near the coffee maker. She tried to ignore his intense stare, focusing on every action. The water ready, Caimie took it to where the coffee maker was, passing by the large cast iron saucepans on her way across.

For a brief moment, she wondered if she would be able to lift and swing any with any success, but then she was throwing away that thought for action instead. She grabbed for the handle on the second largest one. It lifted off the wall slowly and quickly began heading for the ground. Adrenaline and fret rushed through Caimie's veins and she yanked the pan up, swinging it around viciously at the man who was now reaching for his gun. Caimie lunged forward, swinging the edge of the pan into the man's side. The air rushed out of him with a sickening crunch of ribs. He coughed, clenched his side, and fell to the ground, blood spurting out of his mouth.

Caimie turned away from the sight, disgusted. She controlled her involuntary urge to retch and shuffled awkwardly away from the body. The thought occurred to her that he might be dead, and she hoped he wasn't. It was a pain to get rid of dead bodies- that was something she had learned after three years living in and helping run Don Krieg's main speakeasy.

The man coughed, sputtered. Caimie spun away from him, letting her feet quickly carry her to the other side of the kitchen. Tucked in the back, near a cabinet, was a small door that at first glance would appear to be just a broom closet. Narrow, thin, and unobtrusive. Hidden in plain sight, the backdoor that Sanji had built himself just after Krieg took them over. They'd never had to use it.

She wrenched it open, old hinges creaking- aching. She paused for a moment before dashing through the narrow opening. It was a tight fit, made no bigger than Caimie or Sanji's width. No muscular, broad man could follow her now. She stepped through the narrow hole and into the dark street.

It took a moment to orient herself, unfamiliar to this side of the restaurant. She did, though, and within moments Caimie was running down the street, following the street signs, which she hoped would lead her where she needed to go. The address Zoro had given her was running through her head as she ran. Thousand Sunny Hotel. Mentally mapping out the quickest route, Caimie decided to cut across Red Line Park.

Her legs burned and her chest tightened, but she refused to stop. The longer it took her to reach them, the longer Sanji would be in Krieg's grasp, and the longer he was forced to-

To what, she didn't know. Didn't want to know. Couldn't bear to imagine what he was going through.

Caimie ran through the park, concentrating only on avoiding the trees and brush in her way. She could see streetlights appearing beyond the tree line, and she pushed her legs harder. At the end of the park, Caimie glanced around for a street sign. Cocoyashi- she was close. The shortcut through the park must have brought her here fifteen minutes sooner than traveling through the streets would have.

She hurried into the street, cutting across and down the neighbouring one. So preoccupied was she, that Caimie didn't hear the car as she ran across the street. Nor its horn. However, the bright lights flooding her eyes caused her to turn and look. The car's tires squealed and pierced the silence. Caimie froze in her spot, unable to move, fear holding her in place. All her adrenaline was fading as the car sped for her. It stopped within inches of hitting her. Caimie took a deep breath, chest shuddering with the effort.

The lights on the car dimmed and someone stepped out. She could hear footsteps approaching, but Caimie was struggling to overcome exhaustion and couldn't force herself away from the car. She leaned against the hood.

"Caimie?" a voice asked. She recognized it but was unable to place its owner. "Caimie? What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

She breathed in again as she struggled to find words. A hand grazed her bare shoulder and she jumped at the touch, turning to look into dark, onyx eyes. She couldn't tear her gaze away from them.

"What's wrong?" Zoro asked. She brought a hand to cover her mouth. The suddenness of Sanji's capture and the shock of meeting Zoro here were beginning to catch up with her, and she could no longer think as quickly or straight as she wanted to.

"Sanji. He's," she said, forcing the words out, "with Krieg. Gin and Pearl and Sanji- and he's gone. You have to get him. Otherwise-" Caimie couldn't finish the thought.

"All right. We will. Where is he?"

"Otherwise. Zoro you can't let them do it." She was babbling now, not listening to what Zoro was telling her.

"I won't, but Caimie you need to tell me where he is." He turned her to face him, gripped her shoulders, and shook her to stop her rambling. Caimie shut her mouth, opened her eyes, and began crying. "I'll get him back. I won't let them hurt him, Caimie."

"The warehouse on Armada Street. The one closest to the port. That's where his main office is. If he's not there- then-"

"Caimie, get in the car. Duval will take you back to the hotel." Caimie looked up into his face. Jaw set, teeth clenched. Caimie saw anger in his face. She was surprised at his intensity.

"All well and good, sir," Duval said, stepping out of the front door. "But where will you be?"

"I'm going after him."

"Sir, you don't even have your swords. What can you expect to do?"

Caimie could hear Zoro grinding his teeth, muscles in his face tightening. She had expected Luffy and Zoro to help, but never thought to see them care so much. It didn't feel real for some reason that she couldn't explain. Perhaps because she had long ago lost all her expectations about others. Here though, was someone willing to throw all of his being into a cause for someone he hardly knew. "I don't know, but I have to go."

"But sir-"

"Goddammit, man. We pulled him into this. Who's to say how much time we have? One of us has to get there. And soon. You've heard the exact same kinds of things about Krieg that I have. He's not a good man."

"There's nothing you can do right now. You're going to need Luffy and the others."

"Even by myself, I could help." Caimie believed he would at least try.

"What are you going to accomplish without your swords?" Duval took a step towards them. His face was red and it seemed an unnatural colour on the normally calm man. "You know I'm right."

"Fine. But hurry." Duval sighed and stepped back into the car. Zoro wrapped one hand around Caimie's wrist. He dragged her into the back seat. She tumbled in, barely situated before Duval sped away.

Caimie looked over at Zoro. His face, shadowed by moonlight, had a demonic feel to it. His eyes blared in the dark. Caimie shuddered at the rage on his face.

"Don't worry. We'll get him back," he said, voice absent-sounding. As though he were saying it more for his own comfort than for Caimie's.

--

The first thing Sanji registered was the pain in his head. So harsh, so painful, so abominably loud, that all he could hear and know was the throbbing. Pounding and blinding him, Sanji couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to figure out where he was. He tried to recall the events that had caused the pain.

Roronoa Zoro coming to get him and Caimie. Judge Nefertari as their witness. Sanji remembered his exultation at knowing that Baratie was his to do whatever with. He'd be free to cook without worrying about the consequences of who he served. Sanji would have let Zoro and Luffy and Nami eat there whenever they wanted. Caimie had smiled at him, happy for the first time in three years.

Gin and Pearl. The guns pointed at them. Caimie's tears.

Sanji remembered why his head hurt. He understood what caused the tension in his shoulders, why they were pulled behind awkwardly behind his back. Sanji felt ropes around his wrists tied behind what he assumed was a chair. He was afraid to open his eyes and look at where he was. Someplace where no one would find him, someplace where he was alone. Or if he wasn't alone, Krieg and his men must be here. Sanji repressed the fear he felt rising within him. He didn't want to be alone with Krieg, because he could only imagine how angry the mob leader must be and how useless he would see Sanji really was, now the Baratie was gone.

"Pearl, you idiot, you hit him too hard." Sanji recognized that voice. He'd heard it almost every night for the past three years in whispers and screams. _Gin_.

"So what? It's not like he needs to wake up any time soon? Whatever Krieg is going to do can happen now or later. I don't think he cares." Sanji tried to identify Pearl 's attitude from the way he spoke. Sanji could only identify a nonchalant attitude and complete lack of care for him. It terrified him that this man who he had cooked for and eaten with for three years could hold no emotions whatsoever for him. He didn't expect Pearl to really care, but still, the ability to shrug off any relation scared Sanji. "Krieg just needs him conscious eventually so he can ask who took the deed. This shitty cook is good for nothing else now."

There. If Pearl, an underling, was able to push aside Sanji at the beck of his leader, how ready was Krieg to dispose of him. He knew the man was cruel and what he could do to those within his power. Sanji's body began to shake in anticipation and fear of what might come. He tried to stop it, to control his heartrate and muscles. Any semblance of calm was quickly disintegrating, and Sanji was left with uncontrollable quickening of the heart and tearing in his eyes.

_Someone is going to notice_, he thought.

"Uh," a voice Sanji didn't recognize, "I think he's awake."

At the reference to it, Sanji's eyes shot open. Sudden exposure to the harsh white light made him blink back the pain, and he sat blinded and stupid for a moment.

"Pearl, take Vince out to get Krieg. Tell him the cook's awake," Gin barked out.

"You do it. I want to stay and watch."

"Go. _Now_." Sanji couldn't see Gin, but he immediately recognized the harsh tone- the no nonsense emphasis that Sanji had never been able to refuse. The people around him came into focus, slowly. He could see the hard lines on both men's faces. The struggle to refuse or obey was imprinted on Pearl's face. Sanji couldn't quite interpret what he was seeing on Gin's. Stress? Worry? Pain?

Pearl turned and left with a quick scowl at Sanji and an angry glare at Gin. The weight of this didn't hit Sanji as he was still blinking back the harsh lights that only worsened the ache in his head. He didn't understand that Gin was pushing Pearl out of the room for one moment alone with the cook. One moment before fate came rushing through time to hit him.

"Sanji? Sanji can you hear me?" Gin had crossed the distance between them. He crouched down in front of Sanji, so that he was looking up into Sanji's one sea-blue eye. Sanji nodded. "Good. Don't speak, because if anyone sees you talking to me and you won't speak to them- Krieg might make me do it. I can't do it, Sanji. I might not- he'll probably make me watch."

Gin looked down. Sanji forced away the haze of pain to study Gin's face clearly. Lip trembling, eyes watery. He was not the hard-faced gangster Sanji always saw. Here was a side he had never expected from the butch man.

"Sanji, just tell him what he wants to know. If you tell him, he'll probably just let you go. And then we can go back to Baratie together. Right?" There was a noise at the door. Gin whipped his head around sharply to see the handle turning, slowly, but purposefully. "Just tell him about the deed, and everything will be okay. And Sanji- I'm sorry for anything that happens. This is out of my control now. I tried-"

Gin straightened abruptly and pulled away from Sanji. He reached a hand up and dragged it through Sanji's blonde hair before stepping back and regaining his control, hard exterior once again in place. Sanji found it hard to tear his blurry gaze away from Gin. But the heavy door was creaking open and in stepped the foreboding figure of Don Krieg. So broad shouldered and overbearing that Sanji suddenly felt like a small child and not the strong fighter he was. Or could be if he wasn't currently tied to a chair.

Boots clomped along the metal floor, growing louder the closer Krieg drew. Then Krieg was towering over him, shadow smothering all light so that Sanji couldn't see the hand swinging through the air. The backhanded blow smashed into his face, impacting with cheek and jaw. The force of it turned Sanji's head and caused the chair to tip precariously before crashing into the floor. Sanji fell with it and his head and shoulder cracked painfully against the floor. His teeth and tongue knocked into each other and Sanji tasted blood.

"You miserable little fuck," Krieg growled. He kicked out so that his boot collided with Sanji's sternum. Sanji winced and coughed, the blood in his mouth spurting onto the grey cement. Again, Krieg kicked him. "You just thought you could take it and leave? Thought you could switch alliances and that I'd let you? You're nothing, but you can't take the restaurant. I paid for it, for everything. You don't betray me, cook. Lift him up."

Someone gripped the chair and roughly yanked it up. Vertigo began to set in, predictable after getting knocked unconscious, falling down, and being jerked upright. Sanji struggled to hold back the vomit he felt building in his stomach and throat. He had a feeling Krieg wouldn't take it well if he threw up all over the mob boss' boots.

"Now, Sanji," Krieg said, bending so that his face was only inches from Sanji's. "You're going to tell me where the deed is and who took it. And if you don't- well we're starting small and going big."

Krieg gestured to something next to him, and Sanji looked over. Bleary-eyed, he was just able to make out the specific items to which Krieg was referring. There was a small table just to Krieg's right. On it were a series of-

It took Sanji a moment for what it was to register. There were kitchen utensils lined up on it. The majority of them were simple and not terrifying at all, but out of the five, the last two caused Sanji to gulp. His lungs were closing in on themselves as he looked.

"I see you've noticed the two largest items here. You like?" No, Sanji did not like it at all. A meat tenderizer and a cleaver. As a young boy just learning how to cook, he had never been allowed to use them, for fear of what they could do to easily break or cut a finger. It wasn't until he was strong enough and careful enough that Zeff had let him touch them. And even then, Sanji had almost taken out a chunk of a finger. "They're yours. All of it. I thought it would be more special if you tools were used. Gin helped us pick them out. Just the perfect combination."

Sanji tore his eyes away from the kitchen utensils to Gin who had moved to stand by the door and was pointedly not looking at Sanji or Krieg. Sanji could see the set in his jaw and tension in his stature. The dark circles under his eyes seemed deeper. Gin slowly turned his head around to meet Sanji's gaze, flinching when their eyes met. He was cracking under this situation.

"He's told us quite a lot about you, to let us know just what might you talk." Krieg smiled. A wicked grin that spread across strong, immutable features. Sanji saw destruction in that look. Krieg turned his head side to side, cracking it. He waved a hand at someone near by who rushed over to take his suit coat. The don turned his attention back to Sanji, rolling up his sleeves. "You will talk, you know. I've made sure of it. Either now or later. Your choice."

Sanji's eyes roamed over the room once more, traveling from the corner where Gin stood to the door where Pearl looked at him, eyes sparkling with an evil glint, to Krieg. Krieg, looming over him, towering and menacing with his malicious grin. Sanji gulped and considered telling everything he knew right then and there.

His mind carried him back, though, to the day when they all met. The moment when Luffy entered his restaurant, eyes aglow and uninhibited. The moment when Caimie had turned to him with the first genuine smile she'd had in years. It had seemed that everything cruel and wicked in their lives was gone with that one grinning moment Luffy had brought them. The hope he'd seen in Caimie's eyes tonight. Sanji thought about the warmth he'd felt, watching Nefertari sign as a judicial witness, and how that feeling was one he'd wanted to stick with him for as long as possible.

Baratie was his, and if he told Krieg what happened and why, then he would lose it forever. No second chances at getting it back. No opportunities for Luffy or Zoro to help him again; Krieg would destroy the people who had given him his life back. Krieg would take it all. Better that Sanji suffer physically, than watch himself tortured emotionally from loss. Again.

Sanji pushed the lump of fear out of his throat so that he could speak. "No. No. I won't."

"You won't?" Krieg asked, lips curling back into a snarl. Unable to trust his voice, for fear that it would betray him and ask for forgiveness, Sanji shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gin pale and cover his eyes. Krieg leered over him. "No. You will. Pearl, tie his arms here."

Pearl snapped to attention and hurried over. Sanji felt the ropes loosening around his wrists and he stretched them gently before his arms were roughly gripped, tugged around, and forced to lay flat on arms of the chair.

"Face up or down?" Pearl asked.

"Up," Krieg smiled wickedly and watched as Pearl strapped Sanji's arms to the chair so that his palms were facing up. Sanji felt his heart speed up, and he struggled to control it. It was beating so fast and loud that is seemed Krieg would hear it. Sanji didn't want that. He didn't want Krieg to know just how terrified Sanji was.

"Sanji," Krieg said. His voice had grown soft. "What part of your body holds the most value?"

He didn't answer- couldn't. If he did the Krieg would use it against him. Take that knowledge and apply it to whatever twisted purpose demanded the five tools. Sanji's gaze wandered over them once more, dread filling him. he had no idea what Krieg planned, but anything was possible.

"Your legs? I've seen you fight and know you need them." Krieg kicked Sanji in the shin. "Your face? Tell me, Sanji, what is it?"

Silence.

"I can tell you since you seem so reluctant to relinquish this information. Your hands."

Sanji's eyes instantly shot down to his unprotected, restricted hands, face-up and defenseless. _No,_ he thought, _I need them. I need to cook. What if-_

"Ah. Now you see where things stand. There is nothing I won't do to know who took the deed. And Gin has assured me that you will do anything to ensure your ability to cook. Something you can't do without hands." Sanji shot a glance at Gin, mentally screaming, _Why? Why? Why? Gin? Why'd you tell him? _Gin looked at him squarely in the eyes- blank expression as though trying to shrug away the problem dual loyalties had caused. But through that stare, Sanji saw a silent apology. He pulled his gaze away, unable to look at his traitorous lover.

"Now, cook, you must recognize all of these. So _surely_ you can instruct me. What is this?" Krieg had picked up the first object.

Sanji struggled to find his voice. "A bowl."

"And in it?"

"Ice and-" Sanji swallowed. He needed to get control of his fear before he could answer any of Krieg's questions. "And salt."

"Ah. What about this?" Krieg picked up the second.

"Lamé."

"Lamé." He brought the small instrument up to his finger. "Sharp little thing isn't it? What about these?"

"Vegetable peeler. Tenderizer." Sanji averted his eyes. He didn't want to think about the heavy mallet and its spikes. But by switching his gaze, he saw the final item, which was even less appealing. "Cleaver," he said breathily even before Krieg could ask. It was an involuntary gasp of fear. His voice must have shook, because Krieg laughed.

"Thank you. How educational." Sanji supposed it had been, and under other circumstances their exchange could have been an instructional one. But- "We'll start small and then if we haven't made any progress…you know you could just skip all of this." Sanji struggled to hold his mouth closed. It was on the tip of his tongue, all the knowledge was there to be revealed. If he opened his mouth then it would all come out. But the memory of hope and happiness stayed him. Saying anything would make all of that disappear, and he wanted more for himself and Caimie even if it was fleeting and would soon disappear.

"Hold him," Krieg snapped. Two men sprang up from the side and grasped his arms. Krieg took the bowl and poured a hefty amount of salt onto each of his palms. Sanji rocked the chair, attempting to shake some of it onto the ground. He wanted to make this as difficult as he could for Krieg. Krieg snarled and swung the back of his hand into Sanji's cheek. "Don't."

With the taste of blood on his tongue, Sanji was reluctant to push the mob boss any further.

He felt the cold ice sting his palms, but after the initial temperature shock he felt nothing. Unsure of whether or not he was supposed to, Sanji merely continued wearing his grim, stubborn features. He forced his gaze to meet Krieg's hardened, merciless eyes.

Slowly, though, a burn began to build. It started as a prickling that Sanji easily confused with the cold. As the intensity increased, though, Sanji began to realize that the cold should be making his skin numb, but the prickling was becoming harsher as if the pinpricks were becoming needles. It began building upon itself, each prick intensifying. It was almost as if the pricking was coming from inside his skin and struggling to push its way out. Sanji tried to grit his teeth once more, but it was becoming harder to control his muscles, all concentration on the small ever-increasing bits of pain.

Presently, though, it began to subside, and Sanji looked down at his palms. The ice had melted and the salt had dissolved in the pooling water. Through it Sanji could see a dark yellow mark covering much of his palm. He twitched a finger, saw it moved, but could not feel it. He tried to move another on his other hand, and still could not feel it. He couldn't feel his hands. Couldn't feel anything they did. The only sensation on his hands was death. He suddenly knew what that dark yellow betokened. Dead flesh.

"Turn his hands over," Krieg snarled. Sanji looked up at him wide-eyed. His mind was blank except for the repeating thought of his hand as dead. He could only think about the absence of feeling, as his hands were turned and rough wood scraped against them. And he couldn't feel it.  
Sanji watched as more salt was poured and more ice placed, now on the back of his hands.

It was the same process. Cold, tingling sensations that gradually grew increasingly painful. Sanji could only watch horrified as his skin turned a sickening yellow brown. He had no idea what exactly was happening, but only knew that a good portion of his hands were now dead and useless.

Krieg reached out quickly and grabbed Sanji's left hand. He pressed his thumbnail harshly into the yellow skin, and Sanji couldn't feel it. He had no sensation. Krieg pushed harder, and Sanji could clearly see the nail biting into his skin but he had no feeling of it. Tears began building in his eyes, and Sanji struggled to push them back, but it was uncontrollable. An irrational fear that his skin would permanently be that way. He closed his eyes, unable to look at his hands any longer.

His left hand was roughly turned onto its side. Sanji felt the light sprinkling of salt, and he couldn't hold back the cry of anguish. He didn't want more of his skin to die.

"You're already willing to talk?" Krieg said. Sanji opened his eyes reluctantly, considering that question. He didn't want to see his skin die any more, but he wasn't willing to talk. He was willing to grit his teeth, scream, cry, but he couldn't say anything yet.

Sanji shook his head. Krieg snarled and swung his hand into Sanji's cheek. He laid the ice atop the salt. Sanji braced himself for the appearance of more dead flesh.

"Krieg," a voice said. Sanji looked away from his hands, turning his blurry-eyes on Gin. "Stop. Just stop."

The mob boss whipped his head around to look at his subordinate. His sadistic gaze held no mercy for his most trusted adviser. Sanji saw the mind behind them working, though, processing the words Gin had said. He frowned, but then smiled wickedly.

"You're right. I should stop. If I keep doing this then he won't be able to feel the rest. Right?" Krieg eyed the next instrument wickedly. He set the bowl of ice down, wiped the salt off, and reached for the lamé. Sanji could only stare at the curved, undeniably sharp blade with fear. "Anything to say before we get started, cook?"

Sanji shook his head, then felt the blade bite into his skin. He looked at the shallow cut on the edge of his hand. It hadn't hurt that badly. He struggled to swallow his fear as Krieg turned his hand over so that it was palm up. Krieg laid the blade gently at the point where his index and middle finger met, slicing neatly up and through the big of connecting skin. Sanji forced his mouth to stay closed rather than let the sounds of his agony escape. Krieg moved onto the next junction between his middle and ring finger, slicing through that bit of skin. Sanji grunted back the pain as Krieg repeated the process at his pinkie and between thumb and index finger.

He could see the blood welling into pools. The tissue was completely severed, and Sanji could tell that flexing his fingers would be incredibly painful.

Krieg set the left hand down and reached for the right one. Sanji wanted to pull away, but Krieg had fixed his hold and was cutting through skin once more. Tears welled in Sanji's eyes, and he screamed uncontrollably. Above him, Krieg smiled. That only registered vaguely, because he couldn't look away.

The mob boss had cleanly cut through all of the skin where his fingers connected. Eight deep red cuts that bled down across his now yellow-brown flesh. He tried to move a finger, but pain shot through his hand as it pulled at the fresh wounds. Tears trickled down Sanji's cheeks. He could only watch in horror as Krieg brought the lamé down, resting it across the underside of one knuckle before sliding it across the joint. Slow and deep, cutting through tendons and ligaments to the tender bones.

Sanji inhaled harshly. His mind was racing with the knowledge of what this would do to his hands. If this continued, every one of Sanji's joints would be torn into, ripped apart. It might be unfixable. Sanji might never be able to hold a pan again. He might not have the control to turn on his stove or light a cigarette. Without his ligaments holding bone to muscle, he might not be able to cook ever again. Every aspect that made him who he was would be destroyed if Krieg continued. He would be nothing.

Krieg brought the lamé down to another joint. Sanji bit his lip, fully prepared for what would happen. It didn't come. Instead Sanji saw a hand gripping Krieg's arm tightly. Sanji looked up at Gin. His eyes were hard and fixed upon Krieg's face. Sanji's breath caught in his throat. He saw hatred in Gin's eyes, hatred for Krieg. This was disobedience, and Sanji was shocked to see it in Gin. Krieg was, too.

He had never thought to ask why Gin stayed with Krieg, but Sanji only knew that there was some long-standing debt or promise. Gin had never once questioned Krieg before, but now he was blatantly telling him no.

"Don Krieg. Please. Stop." Gin said His gaunt face held a shadow of guilt. "Surely there's another way. Sanji will talk. Won't you?"

He turned to look Sanji in the eye, and in that gaze Sanji saw hopelessness. Desperation. For the first time, Sanji pitied and sympathized with Gin. He wanted to erase that feeling from Gin's eyes. But the memory of the past three years and his new memories overshadowed that feeling. Sanji shook his head. As much pain as he was in, Sanji wasn't going to speak.

"Won't you?" Gin asked.

"Gin." Krieg slowly turned away from Sanji, setting the lamé down. In a flash, he had his hand gripped around Gin's thin neck. Even though the two men were of the same height, Krieg was able to lift Gin clean off the floor. Supported only by the hand gripping his neck, Gin's legs kicked wildly as Krieg spoke. "I never once questioned your relationship with this man, because it never interfered with your ability to work for me. But apparently it is now. Get out."

Krieg dropped him. The hand that had once been supporting him suddenly loosened. Gin tumbled to the ground. He began to open his mouth as if to say more, but Krieg had completely turned away, blatantly ignoring him.

"Get out."

Sanji watched as Gin slowly slumped up, drawing himself together as he staggered out of the room. He paused at the door and turned back slowly. Sanji met his gaze and held it. Beneath the deep haunted circles was an emotion Sanji was completely unfamiliar with. He searched that gaze for some hint of what it was. The pain brought him back to reality, pulling a scream from his lips when Krieg sliced through more skin. Through the red haze of pain, Sanji saw Gin flee the room.

"Sanji, where's my deed?"

--

He closed the door behind him, hoping the thick metal would muffle the cries. It did no such thing. Gin, defeated, lowered his shoulders and leaned back against the door. Guilty tears filled his eyes, and he wiped them away, willing himself not to hear his lover's screams.

--

In the shadow cast by the tall buildings around him, he stood strong surrounded by his comrades. On his left Luffy was stretching out muscles that yearned to be asleep in bed. Brook to his right was pulling out his violin, plucking the strings softly to make sure they were in tune. After replacing the violin with his Tommy gun, Brook swung the case back over his shoulder. Franky on the right of Brook was cracking his knuckles before sliding thick brass rings over his hands. On the rooftop across the street, Usopp waved at the four of them. Zoro saw the light glinting off his twin Colt 1911s.

It had taken little effort to persuade the five of them into coming. In fact, most had been impatient on the ride here, even as they topped 50 miles an hour. Zoro had been sitting quietly, stroking his long unused swords. Now they were fastened to his side.

"Let's go."

[end]


	7. Part VII

It was late, or early rather. The silence of pre-dawn stretched over Enies, settling over a small warehouse on the west side of town. Here, on this street, no sound was made. Whereas the morning quiet was tranquil across the rest of the city, this silence was of anxiety and fear.

The harsh lights of the warehouse shone down on two men crouched by the door. One leaned casually against the wall. His shirt was slightly undone, but he seemed unaffected by the brisk air. His companion shuddered as a light breeze came toward them. He wrapped his arms around himself and glanced nervously at the door. The man smacked his lips and cleared his throat.

"So. Uh, do you- What do you think they're doing in there?" he asked his partner. The other man turned his head, cocking an eyebrow, but said nothing. "I mean, I'm sure that they're- you know- but are they going to kill him?"

"You new?" The other man asked, a hint of disdain in his voice. The nervous one nodded, smiling hesitantly. "Then let me give you some advice. Shut your mouth or you may find out first hand how the Don works."

He gulped. "Yeah, yeah. Of course." He turned back to look out at the dark street.

--

Watching all this quietly from the shadows of a neighboring building, Brook decided now was the moment to move. He hoisted his violin case higher on his shoulder, adjusted his jazz suit, and stepped out of his cover. As the light hit him, Brook pulled up his violin and set the bow to the strings. It was one of his favourites. Jules Massenet- Meditation de Thais. He'd heard it as a child, and immediately had wanted the sheet music. He'd spent years perfecting this song, loving it and watching it grow on the strings of his violin. The melody ensued, slow and, then, by the time he was standing under a street lamp just in front of the warehouse, it had picked up. Music flowed across the quiet street, a hypnotic whisper. Distantly, he recognized that the two men had begun to approach him, but he had become too engrossed with his song and refused to break that connection.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them raise their guns. Brook hoped Usopp was doing his job and covering him, because all Brook had been required to do was pull them away from the main door. Now, Brook had just reached the crescendo leading up to the climax. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. The two men fell, and Brook smiled, knowing he could finish his song. He savored the final moments.

A hand landed upon his shoulder, pulling Brook out of his reverie. He turned to look into Franky's teary eyes. "That was super, man."

"Yeah, it was," Luffy said, coming to stand next to Franky. He smiled widely, even in this high-stress situation. "You were so into it I thought maybe you were just going to let them kill you."

Brook laughed and was about to comment further when Zoro's deep voice broke through. "We all enjoy your music, but I believe Sanji is more urgent."

His look wasn't so much disapproving as grave. Not for one second had any of them forgotten Sanji. Brook, Luffy, Franky, and Usopp had all been able to push aside their anxiety in order to work better. Zoro was an exception. He seemed more nervous and frustrated than made sense. Nothing in the way he stood showed that, but Brook knew the man well enough to still see worry.

"Of course," Brook said, immediately sobering up.

Luffy nodded and clapped his hands together. "Yosh. Brook you stay here. Make sure Duval and Genzo are ready. Usopp you got us covered? Good. Franky, Zoro, let's go."

Brook watched his leader and two friends confidently raced towards the building. The three of them snuck in through the door. Brook smiled wistfully, shook his head. He looked up, searching for Usopp along the tops of the buildings. He caught sight of the sharpshooter and waved at him. Worry for Luffy and the others was building in his chest. Brook shoved it away, forcing the fear out of him. But as he looked out over the silent street, he couldn't stop the question from gnawing at his heart.

_What if we are too late?_

--

Zoro was struggling to keep his mind empty, solely focused on his one task. To get Sanji and everyone out safely. There was no time to second-guess himself, to wonder if he was strong enough, to consider every possible failure. He inhaled deeply and cleared his mind. Now, he had steeled himself. Whatever, whoever, or however many there were, he would take them down. His only doubt was for Sanji's safety.

There was no one right inside the door, no inside guards. Zoro took this chance to check out the area. He saw that the main floor was mostly empty, minus a few crates and a table where there were about seven men. They had no noticed them yet, so Zoro continued with his examination. He noted that there was a second floor, and his eyes quickly searched for a staircase. Sanji was most likely on the second floor. That was where Zoro would keep someone captive if he were in Krieg's place.

Nami and Robin had tried to impress the idea that stealth was the key. Krieg's advantage was one of sheer numbers. Although it might not always appear that way, Krieg's gang was a well-organized syndicate that had only grown due to Prohibition. What was once a collaboration of men of similar ethnicity was now a large racket of strong members, all of them prepared to kill. Luffy, Zoro, and Franky were certainly ready to fight and kill if need be, but the enemy might kill Sanji outright when they learned the three were here. Luffy was here to save Sanji from death, not be the cause of it.

That concept must not have made an impression on Luffy. "Sanji!" he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. His voice echoed throughout the building. The men at the table jumped to their feet, guns in hand and pointed right at the three men.

"Oi, Sanji," Luffy said, ignoring the guns pointed at him. "We're here."

--

There was blood in his mouth, leaving a sour taste on his tongue. That, however, was the least of his worries. Far higher on the list was the loose tooth he could wiggle with his tongue and the shallow cut on his forehead that was dripping blood down his face. Sanji could feel it crusting in patches around his eye, and he knew that if he opened it the blood would cause some discomfort. He wasn't going to open his eyes, though. He hadn't since Krieg had begun to scrape off the dead flesh on his hand with the vegetable peeler. Sanji had been unable to watch any more damage being done to his hands. Now, he was struggling to hold back the words that would condemn his new friends.

"Where the hell is my deed, you little shit?" Krieg snapped. Sanji felt the rough wire of the vegetable peeler scrape across his skin. The dead yellow flesh was gone and Krieg was using the cuts the lamé had made as a base to peel away skin. Sanji winced. "I can keep doing this. We still have two more instruments. Ready for the tenderizer?"

Sanji shut his eyes more tightly. No, he was not ready for the tenderizer. What he was ready for was for this hellish nightmare to end. He was ready to wake up, shivering from sweat, and look around his room and realize that it had all been a dream. Sanji was even willing to admit that the oppression and fear he had constantly felt under Krieg was better than this torture. Spending his nights beneath Gin had better outlooks than this. At least there he had always known he would have someone in his relationship with Gin. He knew that the other man wasn't likely to leave Sanji for someone else when Sanji was so easy to use. And in that, Sanji knew he would never be alone.

Now though, as the peeler cleanly sheared through his skin, Sanji thought that he would rather be alone for the rest of his life, because this- this was shit. Sanji didn't think he could last much longer, hold out through this pain. He was ready to scream out Luffy's name and hope for a quick death. _A shot through the head would be all right_, he supposed. Quick, painless release from this life to send him into the real hell. Sanji was pretty sure that's where he was going. That was where people like him belonged, traitors and cowards. For selling out the people who had given him happiness. He'd read something once about how the deepest circle of hell was reserved for traitors. Well, that's where he'd be headed if Krieg continued.

Sure, he'd feel bad about it. It would be the worst thing he'd ever done, but Sanji's strength was weaker than his loyalty. He couldn't do this. But he would try. He forced the tears away. Sanji would try to keep his mouth shut still. For Caimie, his best friend, because she deserved to be happy. For Nami and Robin, because they risked themselves to steal the deed. For Luffy, because he had a goal to meet and if Sanji couldn't help him later, he would try to now. For Zoro, because there was something there Sanji couldn't quite grasp yet, but if he ever got out of this place maybe he'd take time and figure out what he felt or thought about the other man and why it was so damn important.

Sanji heard the door open suddenly, but he couldn't imagine why. No one was supposed to come in and disturb Krieg. That was the number one rule in Krieg's gang. Don't interrupt the Don when he's working. Sanji even knew that. So who would even attempt to enter this place?

"Don Krieg, sir. There's a minor problem." _Gin_, Sanji thought. He came back. Or had he never left? Sanji cracked open the eye that wasn't crusted with blood.

"Problem?" Krieg said. He had turned away to face Gin. Sanji could see the lines of tension were still present in the other man's face, but they had eased somewhat. Instead they were replaced by the hardness of battle. Sanji knew that look. It was the same, terrifying gaze that only a murderer could have. He'd seen if on Gin before, but this time it had a different, desperate edge to it. Gin was looking only pointedly at the ground, avoiding the gaze of both Sanji and Krieg.

"Yes. There are intruders. Three of them have entered the building. The guards posted at the front must be dead, as are the men we placed in the main entrance."

"Do we know what they're doing here?" Krieg snarled. He had completely moved away from Sanji, disregarding, for the moment, the torture. It was necessary to assert his power and take control of the situation as leader. Sanji saw that and hoped it would mean Krieg would leave and let Sanji stay here and die, maybe.

"No sir, but most likely they have come for the chef." Sanji, fighting the pain movement caused, brought his head up to look directly at Gin.

"Ah," Krieg said. He paused for a moment, then turned to look at the bleeding, desolate figure Sanji made. "Gin, you and I will greet these intruders and find out why they're here. Be ready to fight and kill. No mercy. Pearl, stay and guard him. If they have come for the chef, then I'll send someone to tell you he's of no more use. If they are Whitebeard's or Buggy's men, we'll need to keep him for awhile longer."

Inwardly Sanji was jumping up and down for joy. Krieg was leaving, and there was a possibility Zoro and Luffy had come for him. He'd never thought that they would risk their lives for him. He'd only known them for a week or two, yet they had dared to enter Krieg's territory and come for him.

However, on the outside Sanji was just as defeated as he had been minutes before. He refused to let himself show any outward sign of his hope and desire to be saved. Krieg, in his sadism, would use that against him.

So he watched silently as Krieg directed Gin on where to go and the two of them left in a hurry. Gin strode out of the room, never once looking back. Sanji watched him go, the narrow vision given to him by his one eye closing Gin off to him sooner than he would have liked. The last view he had of his once lover was of clenched fists and the body shaking with rage. Had Sanji the energy, he would wonder what it meant, yet he watched the door close before exhaustion pulled him into blackness.

--

Zoro, Luffy and Franky had all split up after defeating the men on the first floor. Zoro hadn't paid much attention to where the other two went. It wasn't important, because he knew that eventually one would find Sanji and the others would find a way to meet up. Instead, Zoro had shaken the blood off his sword and ran toward he thought there would be a set of stairs. He thought he had been running to one side of the building where he had seen stairs, however, Zoro ended up on the other side of the crates. He stopped and turned and looked around the area, frustrated that now, when time was of the essence, his poor directional skills were causing him trouble.

In the opposite direction he'd been heading, Zoro saw a set of stairs. Deciding that, although he should hurry and run towards them, his speed had only hurt him before. Now, Zoro walked slowly, keeping his eye on the stairs continually. Gradually, he approached the staircase, and when he was within feet, Zoro picked up his speed. He hurried up the stairs and onto the upper level.

He reached the top and looked around. All he could see, either way he looked, was a long stretch of walkway. From his spot, Zoro noticed various doors, and immediately he wondered which held Sanji. It didn't matter which. All that mattered was that one of them did and that eventually he find it. Zoro would search through every one if need be. Although, he was hoping that wouldn't be necessary.

Zoro rushed forward, beginning his search. The first door was locked, and after he kicked it down, all he discovered was a closet. The second door was open, but only led to a bathroom. Third door was an office. Zoro was getting frustrated. He turned the corner, hoping that the next series of rooms would prove more successful.

This didn't seem likely, though, for as he veered around the corner, his way was blocked. In front of him stood a tall, lanky man. It took a moment, but Zoro recognized him as the gaunt man from Sanji's restaurant. The one who had leaned down and spoken to the cook. The one Zoro now knew as Gin, Krieg's right-hand man. Zoro leapt away and drew his sword, ready to fight if need be.

Gin had his tonfa out, but made no move to attack. Zoro met the rival mobster's gaze, expecting to see pre-battle anxiety in his eyes. Instead, Zoro was shocked to find a deep, desperation hiding in the black eyes. There was a faint, hopeless look in them that Zoro knew. He understood that feeling, for he'd suffered and seen that haunted look in his own eyes. Once, long ago. Zoro had no idea why this man's eyes showed so much hurt. It shouldn't surprise him, though. Everyone, at one point or another, faces challenges that can irreparably change them.

"Why are you here?" Gin said. Zoro hadn't expected him to say anything. "Did you come for the chef? For Sanji? "

Zoro didn't answer right away. It wasn't in his nature to discuss his purpose with the enemy. Especially not when the enemy had caused undue pain to a friend of his. He felt no need to respond to Gin, but the desperate pain in the other man's eyes caused him to pause. Zoro nodded slightly.

"Are you going to try and stop me?" Zoro asked softly. It was unnecessary to ask, because either way Zoro was getting past this man.

Gin took one step forward, stopped, and gripped his tonfa more tightly. Zoro tightened his grip on his own weapons. "Why- why would you come? How- Never mind. I don't want to know. Just-" Zoro watched as Gin took a deep breath and several halting steps forward until he was close enough to whisper. "Two doors down. There's a guard."

Then he hurried away, brushing past Zoro. Zoro stared at the spot where Gin had been standing, unsure of what exactly had caused the other man to betray Sanji's location. Although shocked, Zoro wasn't going to take the time to sort it out. So he shook off his brief encounter with Gin and hurried down the corridor. _Two more doors_, he thought. Zoro ran.


	8. Part VIII

Zoro looked into the room. Cold, metal, and empty. In that first instant that was all Zoro saw as he stood in the frame of the door he'd just kicked through. His first, horrified view of Sanji, strapped down and bloody, left Zoro frozen. He had taken very little time to prepare himself for whatever he might encounter. He'd thought he could handle anything, that it wouldn't affect him. Yet, staring at the desolate, bleeding figure, Zoro realized he had overestimated his ability to handle horror. He'd seen plenty of dead bodies, killed many himself, and had never felt this shock. Perhaps, it was because in the month he'd known him, Zoro had never thought of Sanji as a weakling. Not as strong as Zoro, but not soft. Able to protect himself.

The figure in the chair, however, was a dwarfed version of the Sanji Zoro knew. _Bloodless_, Zoro thought. He recognized the signs when he looked at Sanji. The shoulders shook at an unnaturally cold body temperature. His normally pale skin was almost see-through. From the look of Sanji's hands, Zoro had an idea of where the loss was coming from. He knew that he needed to hurry up and take care of the other man in the room before Sanji lost too much blood.

Zoro saw the man charge at him from the left, forcing him to tear his gaze away from the painful sight of Sanji. A tall, greasy-haired man surged toward him. In one cursory glance, Zoro sized up his opponent before drawing a sword. He dodged the attack, turning to one side, and then neatly brought his katana up into the man's body. With the sickening sound of steel slicing through skin, it slid past the enemy's ribs and, if Zoro's aim were true, into his heart. Zoro pulled the sword back out and shook off the blood. He distantly registered the man falling, but all of Zoro's attention had shifted to his comrade's condition. However, as he looked at the defeated figure, he wondered if he were strong enough to handle it.

He sheathed his sword and rushed forward, immediately undoing the bindings that held Sanji to the chair. As he worked, a tired voice above him began to speak.

"How did you get in here?" Zoro looked up. Through his one blood-crusted eye, Sanji was watching him. That smooth, flirtatious voice was rasped with pain and pitched with adrenaline. "I mean how could someone like you get in here? Like that?"

It hadn't been the question Zoro had been expecting. But as he looked closer at the cook's face and saw the hint of a smile pulling at those lips, he understood that, perhaps, it was his way of lightening the mood. Even just a little. As if to say, 'Yes, I know I look like shit, am in a hell of a lot of pain, but don't worry too much.' Zoro was not reassured. He nodded anyway in the hopes that it might wipe away the fear still present in Sanji's eyes.

"What do you mean someone like me?" Zoro asked as he worked at the ropes around Sanji's wrists. He avoided looking at the hands. Although covered in blood, he could clearly see the damage done to them.

"I mean how'd you sneak past them with green hair? Even Krieg's men would notice that." Sanji said. Zoro watched Sanji's expression change as he looked at his hands. Sanji averted his gaze, fixating instead on Zoro's face.

Zoro met the one blue eye and said, "I didn't _sneak_ in here."

Sanji nodded and swallowed harshly, and Zoro saw tears pricking the cook's eye. He finished untying the knots on Sanji's wrists while the cook spoke. "You know, I never told them. I thought about it every time. Krieg kept asking me and kept-" Sanji's voice broke. Zoro didn't dare look up, afraid that he might see his friend's breaking point- Zoro didn't think he could handle that. Instead he examined Sanji's wounded hands as he listened. "But I didn't say anything. _Couldn't_ say anything. It just wouldn't be right."

He was no doctor, but Zoro knew enough to think that the bleeding needed to be stopped and that infection should be prevented. Behind him, Krieg's man lay dead, wearing a perfectly good shirt. Zoro turned and ripped off strips of the material.

"I- I didn't mean to cause you any problems. That's why I didn't say anything. Couldn't let Krieg get to you, Luffy, Nami- everyone had tried so hard to help me when no one else ever cared and if I gave in-"

"You didn't." Zoro lifted one of Sanji's hands and wound the strips throughout the fingers and across the palm.

"But if I had- what would have happened to you? I just-" Sanji hissed as Zoro tied a knot on one bandage. "Just didn't want to see _this_ happen to you. And Caimie. You would have looked after her wouldn't you?"

Zoro nodded, tying off the other makeshift bandage. He stood up enough so that he could scoop the cook onto his back. The body was limp, muscles relaxed. Sanji breathed a tired sigh into his ear. At this point, the adrenaline had been pumped out of Sanji's body, leaving him lax. Zoro hefted him up higher onto his back and hoped that the cook managed to stay on.

"Of course I would have." Sanji rested his head against Zoro's shoulder blade. He felt the cook smile.

"Good. I knew I could trust you." Zoro had no response, but he figured that would be all right. Sanji had already lost consciousness without waiting for any more reassurances. The swordsman headed out the door and into the hallway.

As he ran down the corridor, he glanced over the railing to the main floor of the warehouse. Rather than struggle, Zoro only saw unconscious men strewn about the floor. He smiled to himself. With Luffy around, Zoro rarely worried about how, with so few gang members, they could easily overcome a large syndicate. Luffy's speed, physical strength, and seeming invincibility blew over any number of opponents without stopping. Zoro shared that trait, and when paired together, they made a great team. In Zoro's experience, it was unusual to find somebody you could fight alongside and be evenly matched. It had made his time with Luffy enjoyable.

Zoro continued running, turning a corner swiftly. On the other side, coming about the corner just as fast, was Luffy. Rotating his body to narrowly avoid a collision, Luffy met Zoro's gaze and nodded. As he raced away, his voice could be heard echoing down the hallway.

"Nice to see you, Sanji. We'll talk more when I get back, 'kay?" The smile could be heard in Luffy's unnaturally cheery voice. Zoro thought it was unnecessary and inappropriate considering Sanji's obvious physical condition and unconscious state, but a weak voice at his ear spoke a quiet, "Thanks, Luffy."

Zoro caught a final glimpse of Luffy tugging his straw-hat tightly about his head before continuing on. He sighed. Zoro had never been one for sentimentality, especially when there seemed to be so many other more important priorities. Pulling Sanji higher on his back, Zoro resumed his search for the exit. He hurried down a set of stairs and followed the stream of bodies back to the main area of the warehouse. From his vantage point, Zoro could see the door and hear the sounds of struggle on the other side. He surged forward, battle lust singing in his blood.

In the grey light he could see Franky and Brook fighting on the ground and Usopp loosing bullets from the neighbouring roof. Enemies were falling at a steady pace, but they had the advantage of numbers and would slowly overwhelm Zoro's comrades if he didn't lend his assistance. Zoro, still supporting Sanji, drew a single sword and leapt into the fray. For all his height, Sanji's weight didn't burden him as he swung his blade. Men fell as Zoro pushed his way into the battle. As he neared Franky and Brook, a figured moved to block his path.

"Roronoa Zoro," the man said. Zoro looked into the face of the speaker. It was Gin. He looked tense and ready to attack, tonfa twirling around his hands. "I'm just going to ask you and your friends once. Leave before this gets too rough. You don't know what you're dealing with. The cook stays, though."

Sometimes, Zoro could be a little slow to understand situation. That much he could concede. But he wasn't stupid, and he knew that this current one would be confusing to anyone. Which was why he didn't find anything wrong with his difficulty understanding what exactly was happening. Only moments before, Gin had told him where to find Sanji without any prompting whatsoever. Yet, now he stood poised to attack and was demanding that Sanji stay.

Looking at the man, though, Zoro knew that although Gin's role seemed to have changed, one thing certainly hadn't. That haunted look remained in Gin's dark eyes, and Zoro wondered what its source was. He caught a flicker of change in the other man's gaze. Zoro followed it up and behind them. There on the roof of the warehouse stood Don Krieg. The mafia boss was watching the battlefield, and while it was hard to tell at this distance, Zoro was near positive that his real focus was on Gin.

Zoro turned back to Gin just in time to see him square his shoulders and lunge forward. The swordsman raised his sword in time to block the heavy blow. Tonfa hit sword with more force than had been expected. His own strength hampered by the cook on his back, Zoro found it difficult to match each of Gin's attacks. Each swing came with slightly more force, and unable to fully fight back, Zoro feared that his sword might break under the weight.

Gin pulled his tonfa in for another attack. He swung the first forward slowly, aiming for Zoro's head. The swordsman parried, but was unprepared for the swiftly moving second weapon. Impaired by Sanji's weight, Zoro could only watch as Gin brought the other tonfa into his side. Under the force of the iron ball, Zoro felt several ribs crack and knew that he needed to set Sanji down soon. While strong, anyone would have been at a similar disadvantage when struggling to defend oneself and carry an already injured man. Zoro did not worry that he could take care of Gin once he set Sanji on the ground.

Slowly, as to not attract attention, Zoro began maneuvering the battle nearer to the streetlamp. He avoided Gin's attacks as he could, but the man was quick and had the advantage. When he reached the streetlamp, Zoro had no choice but to leave himself unprotected as he lay Sanji down, propping him against the post. The cook touched the ground, Gin swung out with his tonfa, and Zoro prepared himself for the impact. He winced as the first rammed into his thigh, but avoided the second aimed for his head.

Unhampered now, Zoro withdrew his other two katana and knocked away Gin's tonfa and swung at the man at the same time. He was certain that none of the enemy had seen his three-sword style and that he hadn't been ready for them to learn about it yet. But from Sanji's condition, Zoro wasn't certain that there was enough time to worry about unveiling un-mastered skills before the situation got considerably worse.

So instead, Zoro assumed his stance and stared Gin in the face. Both men moved forward, one twirling tonfa and the other swinging swords. Between them a pattern emerged. Zoro would strike out, Gin blocked before reaching out on his own attack. Styles and attacks changed. Yet, the ferocity of the battle was not marked by a need to wound or kill. Zoro was intent on defending himself, but it wasn't difficult when Gin wasn't trying.

Only someone who had watched and participated in several earnest fights would have caught it. Zoro noticed how Gin was only using the minimum force to block Zoro's attacks and hardly any effort against Zoro. From Zoro's point of view, Gin had given up. The desperation in his eyes and the weakness of his attacks spoke volumes for Gin's internal issues. Having felt that same way once, Zoro knew how painful it must be for Gin to fight in that emotional state.

In the dark eyes of the other man, Zoro caught a brief flicker of something. He looked closer, and, shocked, recognized a plea for help. The man had stopped trying and was silently begging for a release. Gin lowered his arms slowly, and Zoro, unsure of how to respond, stopped his attack where it stood. No matter what Gin wanted, Zoro wasn't going to kill a defenseless man, even one with so evil a reputation. Even a man who openly pleaded for it.

Zoro couldn't hear the words that came out of Gin's mouth, so silently were they spoken, but he understood them anyway. "Please," he said. "Just please."

He had no opportunity to either consider or answer that request, for seconds after Gin spoke a voice cracked across the battlefield.

"Gin, stop fooling around. Hurry up and kill the damn cook," Krieg yelled. Zoro saw Gin flinch and tighten his grip on the tonfa once more. With a great effort, he seemed to force himself forward, lifting his arms. Then, tension seeping out of his shoulders, Gin stopped, shook his head, and released the tonfa. The heavy iron balls hit the ground, subsequent sound resounding through the morning air. "You weakling. I'll fucking do it myself."

Zoro could only watch as Krieg raised his gun and pointed it at Sanji. The cook remained against the light post, and it appeared that he had no intention of leaving that spot. Every nerve in Zoro's body screamed at him to do something. But he was too far away from Krieg to stop the man from shooting his gun and had no time to forcibly move Sanji from his spot. Krieg fired his gun, and Zoro could hear the blood pounding in his ears, feel the world around him slow painfully down, and he screamed for Sanji to move as he lunged forward. In the midst of it all, Zoro never saw anyone move past him- just a streak of black and white.

--

Sanji had spent his time by the street lamp drifting in and out of consciousness. From what he could remember, Luffy'd come to find him and Zoro had brought him out of that room, but then Zoro began fighting and had to put Sanji down. In the haze brought on by blood loss, Sanji had been able to figure out two things: Zoro was not with him anymore and Sanji would never be able to cook again.

He had spent the past minutes feeling every tear, scrape and loss of skin on his hands. He'd been unable to stop his fear, which from the look of things wasn't too irrational. It wasn't just cooking that was worrying Sanji. He wondered what motion would be restored to his fingers. Would he ever be able to grip even the simplest things again- a pencil, a fork, another person's hand? Could he feed himself? Would he be capable of intimacy? Or would he forever be rendered an invalid. The thoughts made him sick with self-pity. Absorbed in his worries, Sanji hardly registered the fight between Zoro and Gin.

It wasn't until Krieg's voice broke through the morning air that Sanji returned to the present. He saw the men fighting around him and the fallen bodies on the ground. He watched as Zoro and Gin turned their attention to Krieg standing on the rooftop. Sanji, dazed, understood very little of Krieg's words, but he saw the raised gun and understood his intent. He knew that these could very well be the final moments of his life, a fact that Sanji was not lamenting. If Krieg pulled the trigger, maybe Sanji could stop worrying about his hands. It would be all over. No more pain, no more loss.

Caimie, though, would be heartbroken. Sanji knew that she might not get over his death. It had taken her quite some time to get over Zeff, and Sanji understood that only more problems would arise from his death. Zoro and Luffy had fought so hard to save him tonight, and Nami and Robin had worked to get the deed from Krieg. If Sanji died, then it would all be for nothing. But what hope could there be in his life?

As the bullet came barreling out of the gun, Sanji was lost, unsure if he were ready to die. Distantly, he recognized that someone was screaming his name, but that was outside his focus. Instead he looked straight ahead while his mind tumbled over worry about his hands and the sure death hurtling towards him.

Then something was blocking his view, followed by a sickening squelch and the gasp of a man. Sanji focused on the figure in front of him. As it slowly sank to his knees, Sanji reached with clumsy hands. He pulled the man backward to rest in his lap. Somewhere beyond his focus, Sanji heard Luffy calling out Krieg and Usopp firing his guns at the mobster. But Sanji had brought his attention to the man in his lap.

What he saw and understood was that Gin was smiling weekly up at him. Sanji feebly wrapped an arm around the other man's waist, clutching as much as his fragile hands let him. Gin's lips moved, but the only thing Sanji heard was his own blood rushing through his ears. He bent over Gin to try and hear the man's words, but then someone was tapping on his shoulder, pulling him away. He turned his head to find Zoro's face next to his own.

In an instant, all sound came rushing back. Sanji was hurried into a car. It was all happening so loudly and fast that Sanji, in the midst of his disorientation, barely had time to comprehend what had just happened. Gin had taken the bullet for him, and Sanji was leaving him to die. He didn't understand what he was doing or why, but Sanji leapt past Zoro to escape the car. Zoro caught him around the waist. Sanji struggled to free himself.

"Gin! No, Zoro," Sanji shrieked, pushing with bandaged hands at the strong arms holding him back. "Don't leave him there. You- we- _I_ can't."

For one second, Sanji was terrified that Zoro was going to ignore his request and tell him to get back in the car. Then, the grip on his waist loosened, and the swordsman said, "Bring him, too."

Sanji watched as Zoro and Duval lifted Gin into the car, laying him across the seat. Sanji crawled over to him and placed Gin's head in his lap. Why, after all Gin's years of unkindness, Sanji was being so nice, he didn't know. But he looked down in those dark, pain-streaked eyes nonetheless.

"Oh, Sanji," Gin said. He winced as the car started joltingly. "I'm so glad you're alive. I know it isn't enough to make up for- for everything, but-"

Sanji swallowed and tried to ignore the tears springing to his eyes. It wasn't right. He shouldn't be crying over Gin. The man didn't deserve it. For years the man had been emotionless and almost cruel.

"But I'm sorry. I can't say it enough."

"You shouldn't speak, you know?" Sanji said, voice cracking. He tried to smile. "Just rest. We'll get you to a doctor."

Gin coughed. "I'm dying no matter what. It's in my lung. I- I can feel it killing me. So just let me speak while I still can."

Sanji nodded dumbly. Gin coughed again, more violently, spitting up blood.

"If only I knew what to say. Never have, sorry. Sorry. I'm not what you wanted- what you deserved. I didn't know how. Just, here at the end of it all, I knew." He took a wheezing breath before coughing it out. Sanji helplessly watched. "There's a lot I should have done. I could have been better to do. Wish I'd said the right things, told you how it really was. I mean- Sanji, I love you. Should have told you before, but I do."

Sanji began to speak before he knew what he was saying. "I lo-"

Gin made some noise halfway between a cough and a laugh. Blood trickled out of his mouth. "No you don't. Don't lie to me. I know the truth, know it's my fault. It's okay."

He coughed once more, as the knowledge of life slowly faded from his eyes until all Sanji held was a husk. It was then that he began to cry. Why? He had no idea, but as the car drove forward, Sanji held tightly to the body of his enemy, his lover, and brief friend.

--

He had always loved Sanji. _Always_. Gin had known from the first moment he stepped through Le Baratie three years ago that this was how he would have liked to live if circumstances had been different. He could imagine a quiet, peaceful life with Sanji. One of cooking, loving, and living freely. If it hadn't been for his fierce loyalty to Krieg, Gin would have sought it out immediately. In the first instant his eyes met Sanji's, Gin began to regret the path he'd chosen. Behind the derision in the blue-eyed gaze, Gin saw an ardent passion, and he wanted it even if he had to take it forcibly. That passion was that same hope for a different life he'd lost.

He never claimed it, though. As the years went by, Gin saw that he had no more chances at happiness. Sanji had no love for him, for the man who'd shot the bullet into his father's chest. No hope for Gin, a man incapable of showing his affection. Even so, his initial feelings had not altered, and he used his power to take Sanji without a concern for the cook's feelings. Selfish, yes. But hadn't he always been? Why should he change for one man when it wasn't necessary in order to make his claim?

Yet, in the defining moment of his life, Gin chose to change. One selfless act committed in the name of a lost dream. All the what-ifs and the regrets tumbled down. The loyalties he had once held were abandoned. He could see the possibilities, the potential he'd never met. The happiness Gin had been unable to find. All of it, he saw, swimming in the vastness of sea-blue eyes.


	9. Part IX

[****

Author's Notes (sorry there's so many)

1. So this chapter brings in a lot more historical information and specific details. I'm sorry if I went a little heavy on the history, but I just wanted to. I also included some of my own opinions regarding Prohibition and its effect on organized crime. So...if you're interested and you want to know more, let me know. I can send you some information.  
2. Apparently police ranks change based on each city and there isn't some sort of standardized form. Also, I have no idea what they were back in 1925. So for the purposes of this story, it will go: officer, sergeant, lieutenant, captain, colonel, chief, and the commissioner of police and fire is in charge of the whole city.  
3. I bent the truth on a couple things. Sorry about that. But I'm calling creative license. First time is with Frankie Yale. Frankie Yale was Al Capone's original employer and trained him to be part of a syndicate. He was killed in 1928 by Al Capone. Although I'm setting this in 1925, I decided to say that Frankie Yale was dead in here because I wanted to. Complain if you want. It's my story.  
4. The first time fingerprints were used in a criminal investigation was in 1906 in New York City.  
5. During the 1920s, there was a special federal law enforcement agency formed to combat the organized crime units and control the influx of illegal alcohol. It was called the Prohibition Unit until 1927 when it became known as the Bureau of Prohibition. I, however, wanted to put it in here as the Bureau of Prohibition. Because I can. Interesting factoid: it was eventually absorbed by the FBI and later by the ATF. Cool, huh? :D  
6. Don't read too much into the words "my partner." You can if you want, but I don't recommend it.  
7. Corruption was every during this time period. For example, in Los Angeles, the rumrunning and speakeasies were run by the police force.  
8. I want to apologize for making one of the generally considered lighthearted characters rather depressing.  
9. From the 1920s through the 1950s, most larger American cities used the Bell System standard format of two letters which began the exchange name followed by four numbers, as in DUnkirk 0799. Or so says wikipedia. So the phone number below is along the same vein as that. The EN stands for Enies.  
10. If you have any questions about the history, let me know. I'll explain as well as I can.

Enjoy!]

_________________________________________________________________________________________

It was too early for this kind of shit. Way too early to be on the east side of town, just blocks from port, and in one of the worst neighbourhoods in all of Enies. Yet, he was here nonetheless at 8 in the morning. He'd already been here nearly two hours, spending his time supervising. There hadn't been much need for actual investigating. The gist of what had happened was self-explanatory. Although the majority of the bodies would require some serious work, the main two were easily recognizable- Lance Pearl and Andreco "Don" Krieg. Both bodies had been moved from their places of death and were now placed in a line nest to the man unidentified bodies. Looking down on them, he had a vague idea of what had occurred. For one reason or another, Krieg's whole syndicate had been taken out in one night.

The question he was struggling to answer was who did it and why. He'd already formulated several possibilities, but none of them seemed likely. After spending fifteen years as a cop in this city, he had figured out how it worked. True, in the six years since Prohibition began things had changed, but the city's syndicate system had not changed that much. In general, it remained true to the ideals and views that had existed since before Roger. The Three followed the traditions of conduct and did not wage open war against each other nor did they turn each other in to the police. Those who did were severely punished under the laws and traditions set up by earlier syndicates. Times were changing, though, even for organized crime. Buggy, a newcomer, had generally abided by the traditions, and Whitebeard was never one to step beyond his honor. Out of the Three, Don Krieg had been the one to break the rules. Now, though, it was his corpse that lay prostrate in front of him.

As the leading detective on the scene, he was expected to have some idea of what had occurred. Nothing he thought of fit, however. The style of the deaths didn't match Buggy's MO. They weren't flashy enough, and from the look of things there hadn't been enough explosions to match how Buggy operated. Nothing pointed to Whitebeard either. This seemed far too careless, haphazard. Whitebeard had held onto his power for as long as he had by forever hiding his true force in the shadows, only exhibiting his true force on rare occasions. Every movement that man made was carefully considered.

Stumped, he looked away from the row of bodies to the woman standing at his left. She frantically pushed her glasses up on her face as she scribbled notes on a pad of paper. Since they'd arrived, the other officers had been steadily bringing them information. It was Tashigi's job as his assistant to carefully note every detail. Now, after the crime scene exploration, she was ready to give her first report.

"Colonel Smoker, sir," she said. Once more adjusting her glasses, she turned her attention to him. Smoker nodded for her to continue. "Officers Danner and Potts searched the main floor of the warehouse. They report twenty-five crates of liquor- each containing roughly sixteen bottles. They say it varies. There appears to be gin, some wine, and barley whiskey. At this point we are not sure of the source of these crates, but our best guess is Canada, Mexico, or any number of local illegal breweries."

Smoker nodded. This news was not as significant to him as the cause of this massacre. Prohibition had not been something he'd supported. Before the 18th Amendment, Smoker could easily be found at a bar after a rough night at work. And the same could be said of almost any other police officer in Enies. When the law had been enacted, Smoker had obligingly put aside the alcohol, ready to defend his nation's law. Yet in recent years, as organized crime increased both in violence and size, Smoker wondered if Prohibition was worth the trouble. Not that he would ever say so out loud- he had no one to tell it to in any case- but the idea still haunted him, especially when the newspapers printed news from cities like New York or Chicago where gang violence was steadily escalating. Guns were no longer the only worry for police officers because the materials for explosives were cheaper and far easier to get a hold of. The new accessibility of cars heralded a more potent type of crime. Smoker had only to think of Frankie Yale- New York City's number one, pre-Prohibition gangster- and how he was gunned down in a drive-by for these thoughts to surface. Six years ago, Smoker had known exactly where he stood in relation to the government: perfectly aligned.

"The other officers were sent to examine the second and third floors plus the roof," Tashigi's voice broke in, interrupting his thoughts. "Not much was found on the second floor except one thing. Officer Carter found a room that contained not only the body of Lance Pearl, but also a chair and a considerable amount of blood. From his description and the objects found within, it appears to have been Krieg's torture room."

Smoker gritted his teeth. It had been common knowledge that Krieg was the cruelest of the Three, and even Buggy and Whitebeard must have their own victims. Smoker, though, had no idea where to find them though, yet Krieg's was so close, and Smoker could nearly sense its nasty history. He did not envy the officers that had been witness to that room. Smoker would only have to read about it in his notes.

"There are signs that a battle took place upon the roof. At the moment we know none of the specifics, however, from the position we found Krieg's body in, we can assume that he fell to his death." _Or was pushed,_ Smoker thought. Tashigi sighed. This job must be wearing her thin, too. She turned to another page in her notebook. "That summarizes what we do know, which considering the ambiguity of the situation, is a lot. We don't know the identities of these men. Fingerprints have, of course, been taken and will be compared to those in our files. As you know, that may take a week or more." Smoker bobbed his head absentmindedly. That wasn't even close to his number one priority at the moment.

"Also, several safes have been found. Some contained money, but others are empty. It also looks as though Krieg's office may have been emptied of all its papers. At the present we do not know what these safes contained, where their contents are, nor where all of Krieg's information is."

This bit of information was much more serious than identifying bodies. The papers and contents of the safe most likely contained all of Krieg's contacts- rumrunners, speakeasies, producers, allies. Everything. With them, the Enies Police Department lost a huge opportunity to strike out against organized crime.

"And," Tashigi cut through his thoughts once more, "we searched the entire building and surrounding area, but the body of Jude Gin has not been found."

The air squeezed out of his chest as every one of Smoker's muscles tensed. They'd found Pearl and Krieg, and Smoker had assumed it would only be a matter of time until Gin turned up as well. No sign at all of the man set to inherit all of Krieg's empire, the man who would have known the ins and outs of the whole operation. In his disappearance, Smoker saw the pieces fall into place.

"Sir, is it possible that Gin is responsible for all of this? Should we issue a warrant for his arrest?"

Just as he was about to reply, Smoker heard another voice break through the morning air. "I was just asking myself the same question."

Smoker looked to his right to see two men approaching. Both tall and of imposing stature, their immaculate suits signaled a wealth the other men at the scene did not share. One wore his raven hair pulled behind his head in a tight ponytail. The other wore a dark fedora that attempted to cover the bright orange of his hair, but Smoker could see it beneath the brim. The black-haired man wore an all black suit, offset only by his thin white tie. His partner wore a snug suit that matched the dark blue of his eyes.

In his meager glance and summation of the two men, Smoker knew who these men were and what they represented. He could always recognize a Fed when he saw one. These two reeked of the bureaucratic system more commonly known as the Bureau of Prohibition. Albeit his experiences were limited, but he hadn't enjoyed them.

"And you are?" Smoker could barely keep the distaste from his words. Both men removed their hats and showed their official badges.

"I'm Agent Lucci and this is my partner Agent Kaku," the dark-haired man said. Taking a closer look, Smoker saw the broad shoulders and the way Lucci held himself. Kaku had the same look to him. These weren't the desk workers Smoker usually dealt with. Instead, these were men used to dealing with the harsh environment of fieldwork. "You must be Colonel Smoker, detective for the Enies Police Department."

"I am."

"Then as the man in charge here, you must have already done the primary work." Smoker nodded. Lucci gestured to the notepad in Tashigi's hand. "If I may see those?"

Tashigi blushed and fumbled clumsily with the pages. "Of course. Just- they're nothing special. And all in my shorthand. I don't know if-"

"No bother. Thank you," Lucci said politely. Smoker watched calmly as the Bureau agent flipped through his subordinate's notes. Occasionally he nodded and gestured to the page for Kaku. Within minutes, the notes had been read and the notepad returned. Lucci addressed Smoker once more. "You've done a good job. We'd like to help you. Kaku can take a look at the rooftop if you'd like. He has some experience solving such puzzles."

Smoker nodded, but wasn't convinced that the agents were here just to assist. "Why help us when you have the authority to take over the entire case? Isn't that what you Feds normally do?"

Lucci cleared his throat. "It is easier to let you be in charge than for us to remove you as the leader. The men here trust you, will undoubtedly work harder for you, and you know them just as well. All of which will hopefully lend speed to this situation. All we want is justice to be met and met quickly."

Once, Smoker would have said the same and meant it wholeheartedly. Now, he just nodded.

"Tashigi, accompany Agent Kaku to the roof. If he finds anything of use let me know right away," Smoker said. Tashigi saluted and turned back to the warehouse. The agent followed with a smile, easily breaking into a conversation with Smoker's young assistant. Smoker looked back at Lucci. "Is there something else I can help you with?"

The other man frowned at his attitude. "Yes, actually. I wanted to make sure you understand just how important this case is. The over-night annihilation of a whole syndicate is unprecedented, and it must be handled cautiously. Colonel Smoker, in exchange for our help, I must ask for your full cooperation, especially concerning the missing papers. We must make sure they do not fall into the possession of another syndicate."

"Of course," Smoker said. He knew that, but Lucci was treating the situation as more than missing files. What exactly did Lucci think Krieg had to make him this worried? "We already have one suspect, and the order for his arrest will be issued as soon as we can contact a judge. After we have Gin in custody we should know more. If it's him."

"If? You don't think he did it?"

"That's not it. I just refuse to shut myself off from other options because I'm set on one suspect." The tension in his muscles had not gone away yet, and he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen some of it.

Lucci's lips tightened as though he didn't agree with Smoker's approach. Then the man looked away, fiddling in his pocket for something. "There's been some news recently. Chief Garp is considering retirement. If this case goes well, I can assure you're a candidate, and a likely one at that. Let me know as soon as you know more. I'll do the same."

The agent tugged his hat back on before handing Smoker a small business card. On it, Smoker read:

_Rob Lucci, Cipher Publishing, Editor-in-Chief_

_17 Enies Lobby, Floor 9_

_EN-7899_

Smoker blinked at the address. He'd seen the publishing building everyday as he walked across the Enies Lobby. It had always been something that had puzzled him. Why was a publishing company located amongst the government buildings? He understood now that it was a cover for the Bureau of Prohibition. It figured that the Bureau had a fixed position in Enies, especially one so close to both the police station and courthouse.

He had a comment on his lips and was turning his head up to say it when he realized that the other man was gone. Smoker looked around the crime scene and found no sign of the federal agent. He shrugged; it wasn't that important anyway. Smoker needed to do his own work right now anyways. Whatever the Bureau had in mind for him was not worth worrying about right now. Instead he had to focus on the present, which included solving this case and- more immediately- having a smoke.

Looking around for a place to light up, he began to sift through all the information. Krieg was dead, his right-hand man was missing, and every record Krieg might have kept was gone as well. All clues pointed to Gin, but something was telling Smoker that that wasn't the right answer. He walked out of the light of the street lamp and over to a nearby wall. Just behind him was a dark stretch leading to an alleyway. Smoker figured he was far enough away so that no one would see him smoke. It wasn't forbidden, but generally frowned upon while on duty.

He pulled a cigar out of the pouch in his jacket, slid it into his mouth, and began riffling through his pockets for his lighter. After a frustrating moment of not finding it, he heard shuffling behind him. Smoker half-turned to face the newcomer, only to find a lit match waving in front of his face.

"Hey, old man. Let me give you a hand with that," the person behind the match said. Smoker couldn't see his face, but the voice instantly pulled at his memories. In the dim light of the match, Smoker could make out the distinct burn scars covering the other man's fist.

"Fire-fist," Smoker said around his now lit cigar. The match light died, and Smoker could make out the shape of the other man. Even in the chill of the autumn morning, he only wore short knickerbockers held up by suspenders. He wore no shirt. On his head, though, was the same ridiculous wide-brimmed cowboy hat he always wore.

"Long time no see, eh?" Fire-fist Ace smiled at the cop, seemingly forgetting that the law demanded they be enemies. "You look good. Still smoking, I see. That stuff'll kill you."

"Yeah, well had to keep one of my bad habits when they took away the liquor." Liquor was just one of the many things he'd had to leave behind since Prohibition began. Looking at Ace standing in front of him, Smoker was reminded of something else he'd been forced to lose. "You're still with Whitebeard, I take it. That stuff'll get you arrested."

"I'll take my chances."

Smoker rolled his eyes at Ace's cockiness. "What are you doing here, Portgas?"

The grin left Ace's face. "Came to check this out. It's pretty bad. It goes against everything we've worked for."

"It wasn't Whitebeard, then?" Smoker had to ask even though he already knew the answer.

"Of course not," Ace replied quickly. He sounded offended. "Buggy, maybe. But it would be bigger, flashier. This looks pretty tame compared to how he usually operates. No explosions, not a lot of gunpowder here."

Smoker had already come to these conclusions, but it was good to hear someone back them up. He hesitated before commenting further. Ace had a quick mind and knew what he was talking about, yet he wasn't necessarily on Smoker's side. "There is someone we're looking into. Jude Gin. His body isn't with the others. We think he might have staged this and run off with Krieg's files and empire."

Ace shook his head. "It isn't Gin. If you'd ever met him, you'd know that."

"Sorry. I don't spend quite as much time around criminals as you do."

"No, I guess not. But I bet it's a close call these days, isn't it?" Ace grinned at him as though this fact was funny. Ironic maybe, funny no.

"Yeah. It is." Smoker sighed and shook his head. He was tired of dealing with the consequences of Prohibition. And he was tired of being unable to complain about it. It figured that the one person who would understand was on the other side of the law. Smoker ran his eyes over Ace's face, searching for some sign that the other man shared his thoughts. Tired lines ran around Ace's eyes and the grin was not as bright as Smoker remembered. Smoker looked away before his mind strayed too far into the past.

"Did you ever consider this was someone new?" Ace cut through Smoker's thoughts.

"Someone new? Do you think someone has moved here with the intention to wipe out Krieg? A gang from another city?" The idea had not occurred to Smoker. He thought about it for a moment. Most of the other cities in the States were already under the control of one gang. Shanks controlled Shabondy, Skypeaia under the sway of Enel, and Mariejoa was held by the combined forces of a corrupt government and one powerful organization called Baroque Works. The smaller gangs were stamped out almost immediately. Very rarely did any survive long enough to cause a mark. It was only in Enies that factions were still fighting for power, and that was a relatively recent movement, stemming back to the capture and imprisonment of Roger.

The only contenders of note, though, were the Three. No one else would dare make a move against them. In fact, they had absorbed many of their competitors over the years.

"It's the only thing I can think of. I know for a fact it wasn't Whitebeard or Gin, and I doubt Buggy had anything to do with this. I just don't know," Ace said. The normally lighthearted man was much more serious than Smoker had ever seen him. Ace had changed, but Smoker had as well. Looking back at the crime scene and the dead bodies laying on the ground, Smoker had a feeling that the times were changing rapidly and in a way nobody could have predicted.

"You know what's funny, Portgas?" Smoker asked. Ace shook his head. "I've spent fifteen years working for the government without once questioning. But now," Smoker growled in frustration, "I can't explain it really, but when things seem to be getting worse, I just can't seem to make myself care."

Smoker could hear the exhaustion in Ace's voice. "I know what you mean."

The two men stood quietly, enjoying for a brief moment the silence, the lull of time. Smoker knew he would eventually have to return to the crime scene and his job as a police officer, but for the moment he felt no hurry. It seemed like an eternity since he'd last seen Ace, but it had only been a few years. Smoker had tried to forget it all, but sometimes when he was alone, he wondered whether Ace still thought of him. He looked over at the younger man, hoping for some flicker of emotion that showed Ace did.

He cleared his throat. "Portgas, would you like to go get a cup of coffee? I mean, there's a place nearby that has great breakfast and-"

"I thought we agreed it would be better for both our careers if we stopped seeing each other," Ace said. Smoker remembered that agreement and the reasons behind it. Ace smiled sadly. "You'll never get the spot of Commander by getting coffee with me."

"You heard that did you?" Smoker asked. Ace nodded.

"You've got the Feds watching you now. Neither of us can really afford being around each other. Right?"

"Yeah. You're right. It's just been difficult since you left," Smoker said. He'd always hated showing any sort of weakness, but Ace had always brought out a more sentimental side of him.

"I know." Ace looked away from Smoker at the ground. He sighed. "I should have come by, but it never felt like it was the right time. If it's all right, I'd like to come see you. Just to talk, of course, because-"

Ace trailed off, but Smoker echoed his thoughts. "That would be nice."

Smoker watched as Ace turned back into the darkness of the alleyway. The sun had since risen, but there was still enough shadow for Ace to disappear into the surrounding area, leaving the other men in the area unaware of that he had ever been present. Smoker turned around and headed back slowly. He saw Tashigi listening to a report from a soldier, furiously scribbling in her notepad. Smoker headed in her direction, struggling to focus once more on the scene around him instead of Ace's vague promise of a visit.


	10. Part X

[Author's Notes:  
1. Something similar to what Kaya is wearing can be found here.  
2. By this time period, there were some female doctors. The first of which was Elizabeth Blackwell, earning her M.D. in 1949. So, Kaya is _not_ out of place.  
3. Morphine was first used as a painkiller in 1817. By 1914 it was considered a controlled substance and required a prescription to use. During the 1920s, there were very little analgesics that actually worked. Morphine was the most powerful. For more information see here.  
4. During this time period- and for most of the 19th century- two main types of anesthesia were used: either ether (the less dangerous) or chloroform (the more dangerous). It doesn't really matter which one was used, they both had their risks.  
5. Okay. The hand-fixing thing is a bit of a problem. Apparently my method of torture was _incredibly_ risky. There is a possibly that with those types of injuries, he won't recover. That being said, there are ways around it. If the nerves were not damaged, then the fingers can heal. If any nerves were sliced, then he will have limited use or no use of that finger. The most common method of correction is to insert a small pin into the finger until it partially heals. I/Chopper explain the details in the story. For more information, see the following: 1, 2, and 3.  
6. Tetanus, as a disease, has been recognized since 1889. The vaccine is much more recent. It has only existed since 1924. For the purposes of this story, that is very recent.  
7. And, GOD, I apologize right now for any OOCness. I feel like this chapter is terrible, ridden with holes and not enough information or emotions. Fuck. I'm sorry. I feel a little insecure. I actually got this back from my beta more than a week ago. I've spent this time editing the shit out of it, and I'm still not satisfied. Sorry, again.

Enjoy!]

He came to consciousness slowly, muddled thoughts first running through his head before he finally opened his eyes. The strength of the light blinded him for a brief second. The dark shapes on the edges of his vision came into focus and the muted voices grew louder. He recognized his name being spoken, but nothing else registered. As the brightness faded to normality, Sanji made out Zoro and two other people in the room. The swordsman was standing at the far end of the room. He seemed deep into a discussion with the other two people.

In the haze of his post-sleep state, Sanji had trouble identifying the others. He knew he'd never seen them before, but their presence felt familiar all the same. One was a tall, broad shouldered male with sandy hair tucked under a red felt top hat. Around his thick neck was a stethoscope that appeared worn with time and use. The other was a short woman. Her face was framed by shoulder length hair that was almost as pale as she was. She wore a knee length blue dress with a long white apron. As she talked, she gestured emphatically at Zoro and the other man, who by this point Sanji was sure was the doctor.

Sanji, bit by bit, was able to understand the words passing between all three. However, the sounds were still vaguely unfamiliar. It felt like Sanji was listening to language he used to know and had since forgotten. The sounds Zoro made seemed thicker than they should be if he were speaking English.

"I told both of you already," he was telling the woman, "that I'm fine. I don't need to sleep."

She put her hands on her hip and shook her finger in his face. Zoro back up, straining to stay a safe distance away from her. His face twisted in consternation as he looked down at her.

"Zoro, you've been injured. Chopper and I cannot allow you to overtax yourself. You need time to sleep," she said. The other man in the room nodded at her words. Zoro shook his head.

"As soon as I know Sanji is fine, I'll rest."

"Stop worrying so much. He's going to be fine. We can get you as soon as he wakes up." Zoro frowned. He turned his head away from the woman and looked around the room, wiping his hand across his face as he did so. Sanji thought he looked tired, but, considering his head was still muddled, he wasn't sure if he was seeing things correctly. He turned his head so that he could see the other three people more clearly.

The movement caught their attention. Zoro began moving closer to the bed faster than the other two. The doctor and the woman were close behind.

"Sanji," Zoro said. He crouched down beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"

He tried to make his brain form the words, but even when he thought them, his tongue felt thick. His voice slurred. "Fine. I think."

"Good." The other man in the room stepped closer to the bed, brushing slowly past Zoro. Zoro moved back into the corner of the room to allow the woman to step closer and brought over a chair for the other man. He sat down near the bed. "Hello, Sanji. I'm Dr. Chopper, but everyone just calls me Chopper. Luffy called me in to treat you."

Sanji's first instinct was to stretch his hand out to shake Dr. Chopper's hand, however, as soon as he tried, Sanji realized that he was having some difficulty feeling his arms. Fearful of what that could mean, he glanced down at his hands. It did not bode well for his current mental capacities that it had not occurred to him to check on his hands as soon as he had. Turning his gaze down to his bandaged hands, he realized that whatever treatment Chopper had done was finished while he was still asleep. It struck him then that he must have slept for a lot longer than he had realized.

"Oh. Thanks," Sanji was unsure of what to say. He still wasn't thinking straight. Chopper nodded, turning his head to the side to gesture at the woman.

"This is Kaya. She's currently an intern at the university. She offered to help me with your surgery."

"It's good to meet you, Sanji. I'm relieved to see you're awake without too many side effects from the morphine and anesthetic. We were briefly worried that you might have some difficulty waking up, but considering the extent of your injuries, we decided it was necessary," Kaya said. Closer up, Sanji realized that she seemed young, but tired. There was too much tension in her gentle face and too many lines beneath warm eyes. Chopper, although smiling, also appeared exhausted.

Sanji's was still struggling to catch up with what both Kaya and Chopper had said. The drugs in his system explained much of why he was feeling so groggy, but Sanji still felt he deserved further explanation. "What?"

Chopper nodded. "There was a lot of damage, I'm afraid. Not only to your hands, of course. One or two of your ribs may be broken, and you'll find that over the next couple of days that there are a lot of bruises and aches."

"In addition," Kaya began, "it will take quite awhile before we will have any definite conclusions regarding your hands. The injuries were…extensive."

Sanji swallowed. This seemed so overwhelming. Things were becoming clearer slowly, but there still just seemed to be so much to absorb and so little time. He wasn't sure what to say. So he just asked, "Surgery?"

"Yes. That was the only effective way to treat you. Because they were caused by the lamé and other sharp instruments, there is little risk of infection, but the downside to that is the likelihood of nerve damage." Chopper cleared his throat before speaking again. "What I mean to say is that muscles, ligaments, and tendons are all capable of reuniting, but if any of the nerves were cut then it is likely that nothing can be done. Those fingers may be…unusable."

Kaya, during the entire discussion, was nodding her head as though she agreed with what Chopper had been saying. As though there was no way he could be wrong. Sanji hadn't really paid much attention to what Chopper had been saying. What had sunk in was the last bit. He hoped- prayed- that there was no permanent damage. He remembered the blood. There had been so much of it, and Sanji could not help but recall the mangled look of his hands. He wasn't sure what to say. Instead he just asked, "How long?"

"Well we won't know if everything worked for a week or so. You'll need plenty of rest during that time in order for your body to adjust to the surgery," Kaya said. Sanji had very little knowledge of the human body. He knew what kinds of food to make in order to maintain a healthy diet, but other than, his knowledge was severely limited. "I'm sure you will be able to stay here so that we can easily come back to check on you."

She glanced at Zoro who took a few steps toward the door. He had a discomfited look on his face, but Sanji wasn't sure what it meant. "It should be all right. Let me go ask Nami."

He left quietly, shutting the door behind him. "What did you do then?"

"The only effective way to treat this kind of injury is by putting in several pins in order to keep the fingers straight so that they can heal without any sort of disturbance. That was the hardest part. If it weren't for Kaya's nimble fingers, I'm not sure how we could have gotten past the damage without causing any more. I keep telling her she's going to be a great surgeon."

Sanji nodded dumbly in agreement. He looked back at his hands again, trying to imagine that there were tiny pins in his fingers. He couldn't feel anything, though. His arms still felt heavy.

"It may take several days to become accustomed to the pins. Until that point, we will keep you on analgesics to avoid further pain. I assume you're feeling the side effects of the morphine?" Chopper asked. Sanji just nodded. He had no idea what morphine was or how he was supposed to effectively get through a day without using his hands, much less several weeks. "Since the instruments used were metal, we decided it would be prudent to administer the tetanus vaccine to prevent lockjaw, even though it is still a somewhat experimental drug. Tell one of us immediately if you experience any unusual symptoms or side effects."

Sanji said he would, then paused. "How long until you know for certain my hands will be all right?'

"In a week or so we'll remove the pins. At that point we should know more. If all goes well, then within five or six weeks we can completely remove all bandages." Kaya smiled at that. It was so sincere that Sanji was able to manage a slight upturn of his lips as well. There was a knock on the door, and Zoro entered once more.

"Nami said it was fine," he said. Then, as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world, he added, "Luffy was surprised that you even had to ask."

Chopper laughed at that, but Kaya had a slightly disapproving look on her face. "He would, of course. That boy has no manners."

Zoro grinned at Kaya's comment. It didn't really touch his eyes, though. "You going to be okay, shit-cook?"

Sanji was shocked at the question. It didn't seem appropriate considering the circumstances. Chopper and Kaya had been immensely polite, but here Zoro was cursing (and in front of a lady, too!) without even an adequate reason. Then Sanji realized that out of all the people in the room, Zoro was the only one not pitying him. Although, Chopper and Kaya had been trying not to show it, he could see in their eyes that they would not wish his misery on anyone else. Even Sanji himself could not accept what had been as anything other than terribly cruel. While he didn't deserve or want pity, it seemed that it was only the instinctive reaction to have to his situation.

He nodded in Zoro's direction. Some of the tension vanished from the swordsman's body. "Did you explain everything to him, then?"

"Yes. Do you have any questions?" Chopper asked him cautiously.

Sanji was sure he did, but he didn't know what to ask at the moment. Everything was still overwhelming, and there didn't appear to be any specific solution Sanji was looking for. He shook his head.

"You sure? All you have to do is let us know if there's anything you need. You should get some rest." Chopper said.

"Yeah. I will." Sanji watched as Chopper slowly stood and Kaya reached over to gently pat Sanji's leg. Even though it was suddenly becoming harder to breathe, Sanji forced himself to smile at them both. Now that they were leaving, it occurred to Sanji that there was something he was forgetting. It was gnawing at him that he couldn't remember. _Oh,_ he realized suddenly what it was. "Wait, please." Chopper and Kaya stopped midway to the door. "Is there anyway I could see Gin? I mean, I know he's," Sanji forced himself to say it, "dead, but-"

Across the room, Zoro raised an eyebrow. "I see no problem with it."

"Sanji should be resting. I'm not sure how much effect the morphine has had on him. He may not be able to walk due to his ribs and the morphine. There is the wheelchair we brought from the hospital, but-" The doctor shook his head, and Sanji worried that his words would overrule anything Zoro said. Sanji didn't want to have to pushed around in a wheelchair like some invalid.

"He doesn't need it. It's just a room over. I'll go with him," Zoro replied.

"You should be resting, too," Kaya said, shaking her finger at him. "How many times do I need to tell you that you have several broken ribs? Go lie down."

"And how many times, woman, do I have to tell you that I'm fine?" This seemed to be an old argument. Kaya blinked and gritted her teeth. "Look, I'll take him, and then when Sanji wants to come back, I'll go rest. I promise."

He wasn't sure what passed between Kaya and Zoro just then, but compromise seemed to be the best option. "Fine," Kaya said, looking between Zoro and Sanji. Her lips thinned into a tight line. She turned and headed out the door.

"Be careful with his hands and arms, Zoro," Chopper advised. Zoro nodded as Chopper turned to leave. Then, the green-haired man walked over to the bed stiffly. Sanji recognized the rigidity in his movements as pain.

"Okay, shit-cook," Zoro said. "Let's get you up without damaging those hands."

His tone was placating, and Sanji tensed at his words. "I don't need your pity, marimo."

"Who has time for pity? I was just commenting on your obvious weakness." He smiled, and Sanji knew Zoro wasn't serious.

"Weakness?" Sanji said, faking offense. Zoro brought an arm behind Sanji's back to help him sit up. He could feel the prick of pain in his ribs as he sat upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Zoro leaned over him to pull him up slowly, supporting him gently with an arm around his waist. "I'm not sure what you could be talking about. Yourself?"

Sanji felt uneasy on his feet even with Zoro's arm wrapped around him. He tried to focus on the warm, strong body next to him rather than the difficulty he was having moving his feet forward. The combination of pain killers and grief was wrapping itself around him once more, and it took all Sanji had in him to push his body out the door and into the hallway. Even though the effort seemed too much in his already exhausted state, Sanji still felt the same conviction. He needed to see Gin sooner rather than later.

Zoro guided him into a neighboring room. Sanji would have sworn that the door creaked open, hinges turning at a frustrating pace, but the noise he heard was only in his head. He imagined that the room was much darker than the hallway, that the air was thick from the covered, desolate figure lying on the narrow bed. It wasn't, though. He was just distracting himself.

Sanji was left to lean against the doorframe briefly as Zoro dragged a chair near the bed. He hurried back, reaching an arm around the cook to support him once more. Numb, Sanji gently settled himself on the chair. He stared at the sheet-covered body, knowing who it was, knowing who would be revealed as Zoro- ever so cautiously- drew the sheet away from the face, knowing that no matter what happened last night, Sanji was still going to despise everything that man had stood for.

But Zoro ripped the sheet away from Gin's face in a flash. There was no second for Sanji to prepare himself. He had expected to feel the same nauseating rage he'd always felt when confronted with Gin, yet as he sat within inches of the body, he could only remember Gin's final moments. Sanji could see a little dried blood at the corner of Gin's mouth. He tried to bring his hand up to wipe it away, but he saw the bandages and realized belatedly that his fingers were still useless. Even to do something so simple. He exhaled and closed his eyes. With them shut, he let his ruined hand rest clumsily against Gin's cheek. This dead man seemed to be a completely different person. Sanji didn't want to cry. Before, as Gin had lain dying in his arms, Sanji had been overwhelmed by shock and pain. Now with muffled hands and mind, Sanji only wanted to stare and let his thoughts gently pass through his head.

Except a keening sob broke past his lips in spite of his wishes.

--

In what seemed to be another corner of the world, Zoro shut the door. It clicked gently into place, blocking out the cries of the already distraught cook. Try as he might, Zoro couldn't forget the events of the previous night. It could be said that nothing especially traumatic happened to him, however, Zoro felt Sanji's pain acutely. While he had not experienced the loss of a friend- for that was only what Zoro could safely assume Gin to have been- Gin's death had reawakened old wounds.

Zoro could hear Luffy and the others laughing from down the hall. Listening to them, Zoro knew that no matter what had happened in his past or happened in the future, he would find a way to get past it. Luffy had pulled him out of his depression and would again if it were ever necessary. There was something else for him outside of his revenge. If you asked what him what it was, he would have no idea how to describe it. He'd never been one for words. But he knew with every fiber of his being that the people in the Thousand Sunny Inn were integral in maintaining himself.

Right now Sanji didn't have that. Everything he had known had been obliterated in one night. It certainly hadn't been Zoro or Luffy's intention to destroy it all, but they had. Zoro was finding it hard to forgive himself for that. He'd brought Luffy to Le Baratie, left Sanji exposed to Krieg's cruelty—God! If only he had walked back in Le Baratie with him last night he'd never have been taken—and he hadn't moved fast enough to save Gin. There was so much he could have done better.

He remembered the look on Caimie's face as they had brought Sanji inside Thousand Sunny. He'd passed out at some point during the car ride back, body slumped across Gin's. Duval had gathered the blonde in his arms and brought him in safely. Zoro, following behind, had Gin. Caimie had spent the hours waiting by the door. At the sight of them all the blood had drained from her face.

Zoro brought a hand to cover his eyes in an attempt to stop remembering. But-

_Caimie was rushing forward_._ She stopped in front of Duval who was carrying Sanji on his back. Her hands clasped around her mouth. With wide eyes she looked over his bloody body. "Oh, Sanji. Is- is he all right?"_

_Duval, nodding, opened his mouth to speak. Zoro shouldered his way into the light of the front porch. "He's just unconscious. He needs to see a doctor. I think he's lost a lot of blood."_

_She nodded and stepped aside. Duval hurried in, disappearing behind Chopper and Kaya. It was then that Caimie, mouth opening to a slight 'O,' acknowledged the man in Zoro's arms. A shuffled step forward, she said, "No. No. Gin. He didn't. He didn't. He's not-" She cut herself off. _

_Zoro was only able to step forward and nod. Caimie reached out to touch Gin's face. His eyes were now permanently in shadow. Caimie's chest shook as she inhaled. A half-smile crossed her face. _

"_It was never fair what he did, but I suppose he, like the rest of us, made do with what he had. After all, what else are any of us supposed to do?" _

Caimie had looked Zoro in the eyes when she has said it. He had agreed with her then and still did. As Sanji's sobs drifted through the door, Zoro realized that no matter what had happened in the past, Gin had managed to salvage something. He'd repaired at least one mistake. Sanji- and Caimie as well- would of course remember the years of torment, but Gin had managed to redress his actions. Sanji's animosity was no longer black and white.

Last night had been the turning point. Sanji was completely free now, and it was up to him to decide his future. Zoro was once again reminded of the mistakes he'd made. Although free, Sanji might never regain the use of his hands, thus rendering him incapable of continuing his livelihood. While Luffy would ensure that they wouldn't be destitute, Sanji was not the kind to take charity. He needed more than pity right now.

Something else Caimie had said was tugging at his memory.

"_It's not much," _she had said while Zoro covered Gin with a white sheet, _"but since his father died, Gin has been the most constant presence in his life."_

Zoro understood that it was unlikely that Sanji would find anyone to be present in the manner Gin had, but maybe Zoro could try to help out. It might make up for not getting to Sanji fast enough to stop Krieg. If only he'd—Zoro stopped himself. He knew that once he started questioning his actions, he would never be able to stop. Regret came too easily and left too slowly for Zoro. He hoped that wouldn't be the case for Sanji.

He wiped a hand across his face, dragging away the tension and exhaustion as he put a hand on the doorknob. Sanji had been alone long enough and dwelling certainly wasn't going to help. Sanji needed to know that he didn't have to suffer by himself. Zoro stepped quietly inside. Sanji was sitting in the chair like before. Salt-water stains lined his cheeks, but as Sanji turned to look at Zoro, the swordsman was prepared to pretend like they didn't exist. Zoro nodded a greeting instead.

"Hey," Sanji said, voice dejected. He looked back at Gin's body. In the dim room, Gin looked darker than he had in life. Although a hint of gray was beginning to show, the body hadn't begun to decompose enough to fully take on the look of corpse yet.

Zoro leaned casually against the doorframe. He was content to stay there until Sanji was ready to go. Zoro had only entered to reassure Sanji that there was a chance to get past this. _They_ were going to be with him from now on. He watched the cook calmly, giving him time to think. Sanji brushed a bandaged hand across Gin's face. He exhaled, and after a second, spoke.

"Gin was never kind. I never saw him do anything nice for anyone." The words poured out of him. "He was called the man-demon because he never showed sympathy for any one of his enemies. Krieg chose him specifically for that. Gin told me once that he _liked_ killing people for Krieg."

Zoro knew all of this and merely nodded. Sanji's shoulders slumped, and he turned back to Zoro. His one visible eye met with Zoro's gaze. In that sea-blue stare, Zoro saw confusion and hurt. Sanji opened his mouth, poised to say something, but the words were lost before they formed. He shook his head.

"He said he loved me." It was more a mumble than anything else, but the words had been said nonetheless. From the look on Sanji's face, Zoro realized that the relationship between Gin and Sanji had been more than just comrades. They had been lovers. In the back of his mind, Zoro had known as much but was unprepared to assume. "Why would he say that? Gin couldn't have loved me. He couldn't have loved anyone. Right?"

The cook was staring at Gin once again, head shaking slightly. There was little Zoro could say to mollify Sanji, knowing that this was one wound only time could heal. Quiet settled around the room once more. In the aftermath of Sanji's words, the silence seemed lighter. Sanji closed his eyes and laughed. Just once.

"I'm sorry you have to listen to this." Sanji smiled wryly at Zoro. "This probably isn't what you guys expected to have to do right after getting the Baratie."

Zoro shrugged. "We had to take Krieg down at some time or another."

"He's dead?"

"Luffy, it seems, accidentally pushed him off the roof." Zoro nodded towards Sanji's hands. "He won't be coming back to hurt you now."

Sanji looked relieved. He whispered, "I'm free." A look came over his face that Zoro couldn't read. If he hadn't known better, Zoro would have thought he was addressing the dead man next to him. But, considering what Zoro had guessed regarding their relationship, that seemed impossible. Sanji looked back at Gin's body.

"You probably think I'm disgusting," he said quietly.

"Hmmm?"

Sanji weakly gestured toward Gin. "What I am? What he and I did?"

That thought hadn't had much time to percolate in Zoro's mind. He'd been much more concerned with Sanji's well-being than however he'd spent his time with Gin. Even so, it didn't change what kind of person Sanji was. He'd seen that kind of thing before.

"Not really," Zoro said. Sanji shot him a look as though demanding further explanation. Zoro wasn't sure he was willing to explain _why_ it wasn't a problem. "I…uh…I grew up in Japan. That kind of thing is actually pretty common there. It's…widely accepted, I guess you'd say."

"I didn't know that." Sanji looked surprised. He smiled. "Maybe I should move there, then."

"Nah. It's against the law, now," Zoro said. He didn't want Sanji to leave, but Zoro wasn't about to say that. He hadn't known the cook for very long, hadn't spent enough time with him, hadn't had the opportunities to form the kind of relationship that allowed you to say something as dramatic as _I don't want you to leave_. Those words, though, lingered in his mind nonetheless. He raced to find something to say other than that. "Look, Sanji. It'll take some time, but things will work out. I know you don't know us, and maybe after this shit with Krieg you don't want to, but we're good people. We'll help you get back on your feet with the restaurant, speakeasy, anything. Just don't think that-"

Sanji held up a bandaged hand. "I know you didn't mean for it to happen. I don't think I'll be much help now that Krieg is dead and I'm handicapped _and_ a freak."

Zoro figured that Sanji, no matter how injured, was probably never going to be handicapped. The term freak was probably an exaggeration, or at least an appellation that applied to every other person in the Strawhat gang. From his few short interactions with the other man, Sanji seemed mild.

"Don't worry about that. Even if you don't know anything that'll help us, you still promised to cook for Luffy."

"If I can. If he still wants me to after…" Sanji trailed off and gestured again at Gin.

Zoro shook his head. "That's not going to matter to anyone. And you'll be able to cook again before you know it." He shook his head slightly. "You know what? I was pretty sure you were a fighter, but now I can't help but wonder how easily beaten you are by a minor injury like that."

Sanji was all stunned silence at that. Perhaps, he had been expecting something else, but Zoro had never been one to meet expectations. There was a brief moment where Sanji opened and closed his mouth several times before he replied, "I don't see how you have room to talk. Look at you, marimo. Only a few broken ribs and you can't even seem to walk around a room."

"They're proof that I fought tonight and came out stronger," Zoro said. Sanji yelled back about not having the opportunity to fight, thus preventing him from such injuries. In his defense, Sanji had survived severe torture under Krieg and come out without too much damage. Zoro made some reply, only half sincerely. His mind had drifted to other thing; most prominently among them was sleep. But Zoro knew that what else occupied his mind was less innocent and more disturbing. Looking between Sanji's wounds and Gin's body, Zoro was filled with a need for vengeance, or at least a desire to prevent this same pain from appearing all over again. While Sanji, when healed, would be fully capable of defending himself, Zoro realized that some means of protection were not self-fulfilling. Instead, Zoro was going to have to take that position if his friends were to continue to live fully.


End file.
